


When the Sky Stops Falling

by SG-Mel (randomelity)



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blindness, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, teamfic, the occasional hint of shippiness if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-28
Updated: 2017-02-01
Packaged: 2018-09-20 10:27:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 28,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9487199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/randomelity/pseuds/SG-Mel
Summary: Lost and separated, the members SG-1 must find their way back to the gate... and each other.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story was originally posted on ff.net under my long-time penname Dream Painter in 2008-2009. I am moving it here a chapter at a time as I have time to do minor editing. There are some things I would have handled differently - better - were I to begin writing this story today, but I am not going to take the time to implement any major changes. That being said, though I feel I've grown as a writer, I remain proud of this work, which is why I am finally moving it over here. Please be sure to tell me your thoughts.

It had been one of those uneventful missions. The locals were friendly and hospitable, the weather was just right, and there were plenty of things for the wonder twins (aka Daniel and Sam) to geek out over. It was ideal. In hindsight, Jack would realize that he should have taken that as a warning. Alas, in their reprieve from the typical run-from-the-bad-guys-and-avoid-getting-killed routine, he'd grown careless and had thought nothing of the fine weather and nice accommodations. Jack would later regret that, but by then, it was too late for paranoia.

"This is great," Daniel was saying, "I mean, these drawings could date back hundreds of years. There's even a change in art styles..." So early in the morning and already Jack's head felt like it had taken a beating. Maybe he should have had more coffee. He appreciated art as much as the next guy, but Daniel had already spent two or three hours staring at _scribblings_ on a cave wall, for crying out loud. Granted, Carter's Adventures-in-Soil-Collecting-and-Energy-Reading-Investigation probably wasn't all that more thrilling. Why must he be surrounded by people with such... such boring hobbies?

"Daniel," Jack addressed his teammate. "You ready to go yet?" For his part, the man had tried not to sound bored out of his skull, but considering the fact that he'd been asking the same question every ten to fifteen minutes, the archaeologist wasn't fooled.

"Yeah," Daniel replied as he jotted something down in his notebook, "just let me get my stuff together." Jack jerked his head up to stare at him incredulously.

"Really?" he asked. "You don't need more time to translate or something? Don't you usually spend days looking at this sorta stuff? Why don't I have to drag you away? Are you really Daniel?" The younger man smiled. Jack did have a point.

"Don't get me wrong," Daniel told him, "it's very interesting. I just don't have all the materials I need to analyze it as well as I'd like. I mean, I have several books in my lab I could reference, not to mention the lighting's kind of bad. There really is a lot to look at—for instance, I'm not entirely sure this cavern occurred naturally. We really need to come back with more equipment and a research team."

"Does that mean you're done for the day?" Jack questioned, still unconvinced.

"Well, yes," his friend responded, adjusting his glasses. "Why—did you want to stay longer?" His gave the colonel an amused look.

"No, no," the older man answered hastily. "Let's go. Providing we can drag Carter away from whatever she's looking at, we might be able to make it back in time for the MacGyver marathon on television tonight."

Daniel had packed up his things and walked over to where Jack stood. "You watch MacGyver?" he blinked in surprise.

"Yes," answered the colonel. "You think I shouldn't?"

"No, just... it's a far cry from the Simpsons, isn't it?"

"Not true—Marge's sisters _love_ MacGyver."

"I see..." They stood there for a moment.

"Carter, Teal'c," Jack spoke into his radio as he started downhill, "you there?" Daniel fell in step beside him.

"Indeed," Teal'c's low tone answered in response. "Major Carter seems to have discovered something of great interest."

Sam came over the radio. "That's right, sir. I still haven't figured out what the device is supposed to do, but I doubt it's something the Goa'uld might have left behind."

"I thought you said it looked like Goa'uld technology," her CO pointed out.

"Well, it does, in a way," the woman responded, "but I found some writing on it. It doesn't appear to be like any Goa'uld dialect I've ever seen. Teal'c's never seen it before, either. I think Daniel might recognize it, though."

"Jack..." Daniel began, but Jack cut him off with a gesture.

"Shoulda DVR-ed it," he muttered to himself, then said, "Alright, Daniel and I are gonna swing by the village one last time, then we'll come take a look at the device. We should be there within the hour."

"Yes, sir," Carter replied. "See you then."

"Alright. O'Neill out." Jack blew out a breath. "All this walking—remind me again why we split up?"

"Because Sam wanted to check out the energy reading she picked up last night and I wanted to look around this cave before we left," Daniel responded. "You thought if we did both at the same time, we'd still be able to return on schedule. That, and they are in opposite directions."

"Right. Well, Carter and Teal'c were saved some walking, at least." Whatever response Daniel might have made was lost in that next moment as something sped by overhead, crashing somewhere in the distance behind them. The two men halted in their tracks.

"What was that?" Daniel exclaimed.

"Carter, Teal'c," Jack radioed the other members of his team. "You guys see that?"

"Yes, ..ir. I thin... ..t was a met..." Carter's voice crackled back.

".. do not ...ieve it was .. .ip, O'Nei..." Teal'c added.

"You guys are breaking up," their CO told them, but there was no further response. He turned to the man a few feet behind him. "Daniel, what's going on?"

Daniel was looking the other way. "I can't be sure, but remember what happened on Edora?"

"Wouldn't we have detected something like that?" Jack demanded.

"Well, we weren't exactly looking," the archaeologist responded, turning to face him.

"Why the hell not?!"

"Do you really want me to answer that?" Daniel asked. Jack thought about it for a moment.

"No," he decided, "actually, I don't."

"Good, because I think the forecast is calling for showers," Daniel's tone was tense as he motioned for Jack to look behind him. A sinking feeling settled into the pit of Jack's stomach as he slowly turned and looked skyward to see streaks filling the clear blue sky. And they were multiplying.

"Aw, crap," Jack muttered, but it was drowned out as a meteor struck the ground a short distance away from them. There was a bright flash of light... and then the sky began to fall.


	2. Chapter 2

Sam breathed heavily, uncertain which hurt worse: her ankle or her thigh where some piece of rock or debris was still embedded. She tried to move it and halted immediately when pain shot up her leg. It was definitely the ankle. As for the device, whatever its purpose, their study of it was ended. A meteor had struck it almost dead on while she was Teal'c were still in disturbingly close proximity.

"Are you alright, Major Carter?" the Jaffa asked presently.

"I'll live," she responded, though her tone was more strained than she'd intended. They had managed to find shelter in a small cavern, though Sam was unsure of how safe it actually was. The planet they were on seemed to have lots of caves and other subterranean cavities, most of which were sound enough for exploratory purposes, but as shelter from a meteor shower... The earth trembled as another bit of falling space rock impacted the ground nearby. Glancing at her watch, the astrophysicist silently prayed the storm would soon be over. She cringed as Teal'c touched her ankle.

"I apologize, Major Carter," the man told her, though he didn't stop tending to her injury. His expression became more solemn. "I believe it may be broken."

"Yeah, I think you might be right," she grimaced, clenching her teeth to keep from crying out. After making sure nothing felt disjointed, Teal'c wrapped it firmly with an ace bandage, using a couple of small branches to lend support to the injured limb. He rested a hand on her shoulder, waiting for her breathing to become calm again.

"We must stop the bleeding," he said, referring to the blood oozing from her thigh.

"I know," Sam replied. Her face seemed a bit pale, probably because she was in more pain than she was willing to let on. After a moment, Teal'c carefully widened the tear in the pant leg around the wound so he could examine it better. Sam looked on, but was unable to see it very well. "How bad is it?" she asked.

"There is a shard of rock visible above the surface of the skin," he answered. "The cut is about three inches long and the fragment appears to be deeply embedded." Sam shut her eyes for a moment.

"I guess we shouldn't try to remove it without knowing the extent of the damage," she sighed, though, somehow, knowing more about the injury made it hurt worse. It still didn't match the pain in her ankle, though.

"That would seem most unwise," Teal'c agreed. Sam leaned back against the wall of the cavern, allowing her head to knock into it a little harder than she'd intended. _Just great,_ she thought as Teal'c did his best to patch her up without causing her more pain. She had a piece of rock of unknown size in her leg and there was no way to know if it had hit an artery of not. It hurt like hell to leave it in, but removing it might allow her to bleed to death. Her ankle was throbbing, meteors were still falling, and not only would it be nearly six hours before they were overdue, but as of thirty minutes before, they'd lost contact with the Colonel and Daniel.

* * *

 

"Sam, Teal'c, this is Daniel, can you hear me?" the sandy-haired archaeologist tried over the radio for what must have been the ninth or tenth time in a row. Meanwhile, Jack leaned against the opposite wall of the cave beneath what looked to him like half-naked village women fleeing from an over-sized rodent. He couldn't recall what Daniel thought it was. He did recall their retreat back, though. It had taken nearly fifteen minutes for him to stop seeing those damn trees floating like ghostly specters across his vision. The world still seemed to appear slightly off. The Air Force colonel watched his teammate as he tried to contact the others near the mouth of the cave.

"Daniel," he said.

"Yeah, Jack?"

"Give it up, already. I don't think they can hear you."

Daniel slouched back with a defeated sigh. "You're probably right," he conceded. The man seemed well enough, Jack mused to himself. Though it was obvious his left ribs cause him some discomfort, he seemed to move relatively pain free. Jack closed his eyes as that moment on the way back washed over him.

_They ran back up the mountainside toward the cave they had departed from a short while before. As they made their way, a strange rumble approached from their left. An enormous boulder, no doubt set loose by a meteor impact higher up, bounded towards them until its motion was suddenly halted when it reached the tree line. With the sound of splintering wood, several trees fell like dominoes. One, two, and the third was falling straight towards..._

" _Daniel!" Jack called out in warning. The archaeologist managed to dodge the falling timber, but before his friend could let out a sigh of relief, a large branch came off its trunk with a sickening crack before swinging about, hitting Daniel full in the side and sending him flying._

" _Ho-ly..." the scientist gasped as the older man reached his side._

" _Daniel," he said, the concern in his tone unmasked. "Hey—Danny? You still with me?" He carefully put a hand on Daniel's shoulder._

" _Yeah," Daniel grunted, slowly pushing himself up into a sitting position. "Just got the wind knocked outta me. Ah—scratch that. I think my ribs might be bruised." He amended his statement with a grimace._

" _You sure?" Jack queried, his hands moving in a gesture that suggested he was uncertain whether he should help him up or push him back into a recumbent position._

" _Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay," Daniel nodded, still slightly short of breath, but sounding a lot more reassuring. Another meteor streaked past, too close for comfort._

_Jack helped his friend to his feet. "Let's get back."_

The military officer shook the still vivid memory from his head. No doubt this mission would become fodder for more of his seemingly endless supply of nightmares. _Just great._ The man glanced down at his watch. It had been about forty minutes since they'd lost contact with Carter and Teal'c and he couldn't help but wonder if they were okay.

Jack's primary concern for the moment, however, was a certain archaeologist. He wasn't willing to believe the man was entirely okay just yet. It wasn't that he wanted his friend to be hurt, it was just that Daniel was more than accident-prone—he was the universe's goddamn whipping boy. For him to walk away from anything with nothing but some sore ribs? Well, it just seemed too good to be true.


	3. Chapter 3

Teal'c stood outside the cavern for several minutes, gazing skyward. After watching for a significant amount of time, he was reasonably certain that the meteor shower had slowed to a complete stop. He went back in.

"Major Carter," he said, gently shaking the woman's shoulder. She awoke with a start, disoriented for a moment until she remembered where they were.

"What's going on?" she asked rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

"The meteor shower seems to have stopped," the man replied.

"Really? When?"

"Approximately fifteen minutes ago."

She glanced at her watch. The time seemed a bit off. "How long have I been sleeping?"

"I am uncertain."

"We should try to contact the Colonel and Daniel," Sam leaned forward to reach where she'd left her radio. The sudden movement caused pain to shoot out from her right ankle and thigh causing her to gasp, as much in surprise as in pain.

"I have already attempted to contact them," Teal'c told her, handing her belongings over to her. "I had no success." He didn't bother to ask if she was alright—he already knew the answer was no. Judging by the way she currently clenched her jaw, it was probably an emphatic no at that. Sam nodded to indicate that she'd heard him, waiting for the pain to subside. When she looked up, Teal'c offered her a canteen.

"Thanks, Teal'c," she murmured appreciatively. "Have any..?" The Jaffa handed her the pain medication and she put two pills in her mouth before washing them down with water.

"Perhaps the meteorites are still interfering with the radios?" Teal'c said.

"Yeah, I think you're right," Sam agreed. "The storm probably caused some electromagnetic interference. It's hard to know for sure, but we'll probably make it back to the gate before they're functioning again."

"Then, we should be off," said the Jaffa. "Perhaps O'Neill and Daniel Jackson will meet us there."

"Yeah," the woman spoke softly. She wondered how the other two were faring and if the meteor shower was the only reason they couldn't get in contact with them. She banished the thought from her mind, gathering up her stuff. "Can you give me a hand?"

"Indeed," Teal'c replied, taking her by the arm and helping her to a standing position.

"Oh, god," she winced, supporting her weight on her left leg as she held onto her teammate for balance. "I'm not gonna be able to walk on my own."

"Wait here." The man made sure Sam had a hand against the wall before stepping away to the mouth of the cavern. He returned a moment later with a crutch he had made while she was still asleep.

"I believe it unwise to allow you to remain alone," he explained. Sam smiled. Her teammate knew her well.

"Thanks, Teal'c."

* * *

 

Jack frowned, looking up long enough to avoid tripping over something in his path. Daniel, who was walking ahead of him at present (mostly so Jack could keep an eye on him), shifted his backpack to his right again. His ribs probably bothered him a little more than he admitted. The colonel blinked, his attention returning to his watch.

"Hey, Daniel," he said, tapping at the timepiece. "You got the time? I think the battery in my watch died."

"Yeah," Daniel responded, pausing to consult his wrist, "it's... hello. That can't be right."

"What?"

"My watch stopped," Daniel frowned. Jack blinked—several times. "What?" the archaeologist asked him.

Jack raised his eyebrows. "Huh?"

"What's with the blinking?"

"Oh," the older man blinked. "I feel like I got something in my eyes. Some dust, maybe." He rubbed at his left eye, which bothered him more at the moment.

"Were they bothering you before?" his friend wanted to know.

"Before what?" Why must the man be so cryptic?

"Before we left. Back at the cave."

"I guess," Jack answered, rubbing some more. "No. I don't know. Maybe."

Daniel's forehead wrinkled, but he didn't speak what was on his mind, just yet. Instead, he said, "You shouldn't rub at them."

Jack looked at him with his right eye, his left held shut with his fingers, which helped alleviate the irritation. "I know _that_ ," he retorted. (Obviously, knowing and doing are two different matters, altogether.) He removed his hand, blinking once again. "Let's just get moving."

"No argument there," Daniel agreed, continuing forward.

"Carter, Teal'c," the colonel tried to hail the others on the radio again. "You read?" The younger man halted once more as something occurred to him.

"I think I know why we can't reach them," he stated.

"Okay. Why not?"

"Think about it—what would cause our watch batteries to die like that?"

"Use? Time?" Jack guessed, not following the other man's train of thought.

"A magnetic field, Jack," Daniel corrected. "It's like an MRI machine—the magnetic field is so strong, it drains watch batteries and demagnetizes credit cards and stuff."

"So, why didn't our watches die before, then?"

"Because of the meteor shower. I bet there's something in the meteorites causing a magnetic field, and if I'm correct, that means none of our equipment will work."

"Don't tell me, you mean..." Jack began.

"Everything. Our radios, transmitters—anything electronic," Daniel said.

"Meaning we can't track the damned gate," the older man deducted, his mood suddenly much fouler than it was a moment before.

"And to make matters worse," his teammate added, "when we do find the gate, I'm not sure our IDCs will even get through."

And now Jack felt a headache coming on—or did he have it before? "That's just... great. Just great." He rubbed at his temple, blinking several times in rapid succession. "Any other good news, or can we proceed with getting hopelessly lost, now?"

"You mean, besides the fact that it's at least five hours before the SGC will check in on us?" Daniel asked. "Nope, that's about it. We can keep going."

And now the man was being cute. "I should have skipped this mission."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Appearance of the "f-word", this chapter

_Electromagnetic interference,_ Jack thought to himself, _Of course._ Naturally, he had realized that the meteor shower was probably responsible for their radio problems, but he had somehow overlooked the possibility that it had messed with all their other equipment also. The Air Force officer decided he had too much on his mind. After all, thanks to a recent Chicken Little happenstance, he'd lost contact with half his team as well as the damn gate. Not only that, but Jack knew there was a bit more wrong with his eyes than a little dust. Judging by the look on Daniel's face, he also knew. That was about twenty minutes before. Speaking of Danny... Jack glanced at the blurry figure ahead of him.

Daniel shifted his backpack, yet again. His left side was really bothering him, now, and breathing had become a bit difficult. He was probably sweating a bit more than the exertion or temperature warranted, also. The archaeologist wondered if maybe he had eaten something he shouldn't have, because he was feeling rather nauseous. A little voice in the back of his mind was trying to tell him something, but he wasn't able to make proper sense of it through the fog inside his head. He stumbled slightly.

"Daniel?" Jack immediately called after him. "You alright?"

Daniel had burst into a short fit of coughing. Finishing, he drew a hand across his mouth, mildly surprised to find a thin trail of blood smeared across the back of his hand. Coughing up blood could only be bad, he realized a bit hazily. On the other hand, if they didn't get back through the gate in time, he'd be screwed, anyway. Furthermore, he was concerned about Jack's eyes. So, he lied.

"Yeah," he called back. "I'm fine."

* * *

 

It was just as Sam had feared—the electromagnetic interference from the storm had knocked out all their equipment. Hell, it had even drained her watch battery. Fortunately, the gate probably wasn't more than an hour out and familiar geographic structures assured her they were heading the right direction. Not that she had been overly concerned about that. If there was one thing Teal'c was good at finding, it was usually the stargate.

Currently, the Jaffa walked a few feet to her right, keeping her easily within the range of his peripheral vision. Both realized that, even with the aid of the crutch, Sam shouldn't be putting any weight on her injured limb—and she certainly did her best not to. Teal'c further realized that the blond-haired major would do her damnedest to get to the gate on her own, which was why he had made her the crutch in the first place. He could understand such a desire, so he did not contest it.

"Teal'c," Sam spoke up suddenly. "I'm sorry, I gotta stop, again."

"There is no need to apologize," he told her, helping her take a seat on a fallen tree.

"Thanks," she said. She was clenching her teeth again, a likely indication that the medication was wearing off. The woman met his gaze, her blue eyes too bright with pain. "I'll be ready to go in a few minutes." Teal'c simply sat down beside her, the statement having been made more for her own assurance than for his.

Sam was grateful for the companionable silence. Teal'c always knew when to speak and when to just be there. The throbbing in her ankle spiked in intensity as she shifted her weight and she closed her eyes to try to shut out the pain-induced fog. Now was definitely one of those 'just be there' moments.

After several minutes and another dose of painkillers, the Air Force major felt ready to go again. "Let's get back," she told her teammate as he helped her back to her feet.

"Agreed," Teal'c intoned, waiting until she gained her balance before stepping away. They continued on their way towards the gate, the Jaffa keeping a watchful eye on his teammate and Sam moving along with a hop-step motion that left her shoulder and uninjured leg feeling tired. It wasn't as smooth as it would have been with two crutches, but in the thick foliage, the extra crutch would have made movement much more difficult.

So, she moved forward, doing her best to keep weight off her injured limb. After all, what else could she do?

* * *

 

The pain had started out negligible enough, but now... Now, it was beyond distracting. Which, now that he thought about it, was probably a large part of the reason why it had taken until now for him to realize that they were definitely _not_ heading toward the gate.

Jack looked over as Daniel began to cough. That had started about forty minutes ago and was getting worse. Something had to be wrong—the man was never this quiet and his sense of direction was nowhere near this bad. Granted, neither was his, and Jack mentally kicked himself for not paying closer attention. He made his way towards the increasingly blurry figure that was his friend, nearly tripping over something in his path as he did so.

Daniel stopped and rested a hand against a tree. He felt lost. Where were they going, again? Right. They were going to meet Sam and.. and Teal'c at the stargate. Something about a storm and the sky falling. And why was, uh, Jack following him? Did he usually follow him? He didn't, did he? Or did he? Daniel pinched the bridge of his nose. The world had started to do slow circles around him making him feel dizzier than he already was. He was really starting to feel sick...

And suddenly, it seemed his whole body convulsed and he doubled over to heave bile onto the ground rather than wear it down the front of his tac vest. There hadn't been much to the content in his stomach, but it was enough to convince him that he probably wasn't dealing with some alien flu.

"Danny!" Jack was at his side a moment later, hand on his back. "Daniel, you alright?" He sounded so urgent... why did he look so worried?

Daniel closed his eyes in an attempt to string together a coherent thought before speaking. "I think I might... I mean, it seems maybe—probably... No, it's, um. Jack, I-I think there's something wrong with me." Despite his apparent inability to talk right, the man had managed to sound eerily calm, considering the fact he was vomiting blood.

"Ya think?" Jack responded, but his tone was softened considerably by his concern. "Here, lay down," he told him.

"But, but, we're s'posed to meet Sam an' Teal'c at the... um, the, uh... yeah," the archaeologist protested weakly, allowing the older man to take his pack and maneuver him into a supine position, moving a few branches out of the way so he could lay flat. Jack pressed two fingers gently against Daniel's neck. The younger man's pulse was too quick, as was his breathing, and his skin was moist and cool to the touch.

"Aw, fuck," Jack muttered, the curse directed at himself. Why hadn't he insisted on examining the man sooner? He elevated Daniel's feet with one of the packs, before using his jacket and their two emergency blankets to cover him. "Looks like they'll have to send someone back for us," Jack told him.

Daniel studied his expression for a moment. Was that fear he saw on his friend's face?

"I'm sorry," he murmured apologetically. "I, uh... I'm always causing problems." He shivered involuntarily.

"Well, this time it's not your fault," said the colonel, his throat tightening. "Just... hang in there, Danny-boy. I'll get you out of here." The older man silently prayed that he hadn't just lied—that, somehow, help would be on its way sooner as opposed to later. His mind taunted him with how monumentally screwed they were. Just as he had feared, Daniel was bleeding internally and was going into hypovolemic shock. What's more, with his flash burn making his vision increasingly worse, Jack knew he would never make it the gate on his own in time to save his friend.

It was up the others to make it back and send help—if they were even still alive.


	5. Chapter 5

"Unscheduled off-world activation!" Sergeant Walter Harriman announced over the intercom as the Stargate suddenly came to life.

"Who do we have off-world?" General Hammond asked, entering the control room a moment later. A splash of unstable vortex surged forward before being sucked back into a shimmering, vertical blue pond. After a few seconds, the iris twisted shut over it.

"All teams 1 through 4, 11, and... 15, sir," Walter answered.

"Anyone due back?" Hammond asked mostly on ceremony, in case he actually forgot. The truth was, while he might not have remembered all the details, such as planet designation or current weather conditions, the man already knew who he had off-world and when he was supposed to hear from them.

"No, sir," the technician replied, "the next scheduled off-world activation isn't for another three hours, when..."

"When SG-1 is scheduled to come back," the general finished, frown deepening.

"Yes, sir."

"Do we have an IDC?"

"No, sir. The gate appears to have been dialed from the planet SG-1 is currently on, but we've yet to receive any kind of transmission."

Meanwhile, the guards in the gate room below had taken on puzzled stances, looking at the gate in confusion. "Uh, sir?" one of them said.

"Turn up the volume, sergeant," Hammond told him, cocking his head to listen. Walter complied. Sure enough, something was hitting the iris in conjunction with the jumping squiggles on the screen which tracked, amongst other things, objects impacting the shield.

_... Ping. Ping-ping. Ping..._

"Is that..?" Walter began uncertainly.

"That sounds like Morse code!" Hammond exclaimed.

"Yes, sir," the technician agreed.

"Write it down." The sergeant was already reaching for a sheet of paper and a pencil. After a few minutes, the noise stopped and the gate shut down. "Well?" Hammond demanded.

"I could play back the recording to get the whole thing, but if what I got is correct, it says, 'electronics broke; injured; will dial again in five; open iris; Carter,'" Walter told him. "Sir?"

"Get all available security and a medical team to the gate room," Hammond ordered. "When they dial again, open the iris. If it is not SG-1, I want whoever comes through to be shot on sight. We'll ask questions later."

* * *

 

Sam was once again grateful that Ancient technology was immune to many of the things Earth technology was so susceptible to. She just hoped her message had gotten across—particularly since she would be the first to find out if it hadn't. The woman set her P-90 aside. Of all its practical purposes, she'd never before considered the possibility that she would be using it to perform Morse code against the SGC's iris.

"O'Neill and Daniel Jackson have yet to arrive," Teal'c noted gravely. Sam had come to the same conclusion, though she hadn't said as much. Both knew the possible implications, some as simple as the other two simply hadn't made it to the gate yet.

"General Hammond will send a search party," she said. "We'll find them." Teal'c nodded in agreement. There was nothing wishful about it. It was a fact. Neither would even entertain the notion that either Jack or Daniel could be dead—injured maybe, but not dead.

Sam struggled to her feet, positioning the crutch under her arm. "Let's get out of here," she spoke almost as though it were a suggestion and not what had been intended all along. Teal'c dialed the gate and moved to her side so he could help her hobble to the event horizon. Before stepping across, Sam drew in a deep breath. Granted, they wouldn't feel anything even if they did end up smashed against the iris, but either way, she figured a little precaution never hurt. Then, they stepped forward as one to meet their fate.

* * *

 

"Security teams, stand down!" Hammond ordered once he confirmed, at least visually, that it was in fact SG-1 coming through the gate. He hurried down to meet them as Janet and her team moved in to tend to Sam.

"God, Sam, what happened out there?" the petite doctor was asking as the general entered the gate room. A moment later, the gate shut down.

"Major, Teal'c—where is Colonel O'Neill and Dr. Jackson?" Hammond demanded.

"We were separated when a meteor shower hit the planet," Teal'c answered. "Afterwards, we were unable to regain contact with them."

"The storm caused some electromagnetic interference," Sam continued, grimacing as the effort to get up on the gurney, even with assistance, sent pain shooting up her leg. "None of our equipment worked. Sir, if they were anywhere near a meteor impact..."

"I will mobilize a search party, immediately," he told her. "Teal'c, if you think you are capable of going back out, I would like you to join them."

"I am capable, General Hammond. I am uninjured," the Jaffa added the last part for Dr. Frasier's benefit.

"Good."

"Alright, people," Janet said as the medical team hurried towards the infirmary. "I want x-rays of the major's ankle and femur, STAT. And prep an OR—we might have to remove the foreign body from her thigh surgically..." She continued to give out orders as they moved into the elevator. Sam pushed her head back against the pillow, her eyes closed. At the present moment, she didn't care what happened to her, as long as she got some decent pain meds and soon.

* * *

 

Jack sat with his back against a tree, eyes shut against the oppressive brightness of the world. That, and having them closed helped to eased the incessant, burning pain. He had checked on Daniel a moment before. Providing his eyes weren't just playing tricks on him, the younger man's face had taken on an ashen appearance. His pulse was still pumping at a weak, frantic rate, and his abdomen was rigid and slightly distended.

Oh. And then there was the whole lack of consciousness thing. Danny had been out for what seemed like ages, but was probably closer to a half hour. He was still breathing, though, so Jack figured that had to count for something—though, maybe not for much longer.

The older man played with the volume control on his useless radio. Who would have thought they'd encounter electromagnetic interference on a world whose most technological advancement was a water pump? Honestly. They should be better prepared for these situations.

Jack surmised that it must be another two or three hours before they were supposed to return. He wondered if the other members of his team had made it back, yet. And how were they supposed to contact the SGC even if they had? If the radios weren't working, there was little chance the GDO's would be. But Carter was smart. She'd figure something out. Maybe they'd throw rocks at the iris or something.

As he sat there, weary from worrying about Daniel and Carter and Teal'c, the air force colonel thought he had heard something. Now, it had been some time since he'd last had flash burn, but he was pretty certain auditory hallucinations were not part of the package. He sat forward, tilting his head to listen thoughtfully.

"Colonel O'Neill! Doctor Jackson!"

"O'Neill! Daniel Jackson!" Jack's eyes shot open and he immediately closed them at the sudden increase in agony. Slowly, he opened them again. He recognized at least one of those voices, possibly both of them. The man rose to his feet.

"WE'RE HERE!" he shouted at the top of his lungs. "OVER HERE! Hey! HEY—over here!" He kept calling out until a blurry figure approached their location.

"I found them!" the man shouted for anyone who could hear. Jack squinted at him, but he didn't come into much better focus.

"Altman?" he asked. "Is that you?"

"Yes, sir," the commander of SG-5 answered. "We're here to take you back."

"It's about time," Jack stated. "Look, Danny's bleeding internally—I have no idea how bad it is. How far is the gate?"

"You won't believe this, sir, but the gate's only fifteen minutes out," Altman told him.

"You've got to be kidding me," Jack responded. "Wouldn't I have heard it? And what about Carter and Teal'c?" Two or three others made it to their location.

"Major Carter is currently being treated by Dr. Frasier," a deep voice intoned. "We are both well, O'Neill." Jack turned towards the dark blur and Major Altman and one of his team put together a stretcher and gently moved Daniel onto it, strapping the unconscious man in place so he wouldn't fall off. A strong hand took him by the elbow as they moved forward and Jack knew right away that it belonged to Teal'c.

"Thanks, big guy," he murmured gratefully.

"It is my pleasure, O'Neill." Jack allowed the Jaffa to steer him to the gate, too worried and hurt for pride, all the while, silently praying that they'd make it back in time to save his favorite archaeologist.


	6. Chapter 6

The Air Force officer awoke slowly, unable to recall falling asleep. Everything was black, though that was largely because something was applying pressure to his eyelids, preventing them from opening. He cursed silently as he was struck with the idea that Dr. Albright might have made good on his threat to sedate him if he continued to be difficult. Janet at least gave him two warnings before pulling that crap—hell, Dr. Albright usually did, too. Damn kid. Jack reached up to pick at the gauze covering his eyes.

"I wouldn't do that, Colonel," a familiar voice told him. The hands halted their action and, after a moment, returned to the man's sides.

"Doc?" His head swiveled in her general direction.

"Yes, Colonel," Dr Frasier's voice was colored with mirth. No doubt, she found the colonel's current appearance mildly amusing.

Jack leaned his head back in an attempt to see under the gauze. He couldn't. "What's with the eye patches?" he asked. "I could be mistaken, but I'm pretty sure I didn't have to wear any the last time I had flash burn. I think Albright might've gone a little overboard on this one." One hand reached up to remove an offending bandage and received a disapproving smack.

"Dr. Albright did a fine job patching you up," Janet told him, now at his side checking his vitals and making sure he hadn't pulled any of the gauze loose. "It's pretty bad this time around, Colonel. A mild infection was settling in both eyes—you'll be lucky if you don't suffer any serious vision loss. Until that clears up to my satisfaction, you will continue to wear both patches. Ah-! And it is _not_ up for discussion." The man had opened his mouth to protest when she had put on her mother/bearer-of-needles-and-sharp-implements voice. He promptly closed it again.

"Fine," he sighed in defeat, scrunching his brows to try to loosen the dressing. Janet put a cup of water in his hand and he took a large swallow. He nearly choked when the last few hours on the planet suddenly came back to him.

"Colonel?"

"Where's Daniel?" Jack demanded, reaching out to set the cup down on something. Finding the edge of a cart or something, he released it, but it toppled over, spilling water over the surface and onto the floor. He moved to stand up, but Janet pushed him back.

"Colonel, you can't see him right now," she said in a firm, but gentle, tone.

"I know that! I just want to talk to him, for cryin' out loud!"

"No, sir, I mean you _can't_ see him."

Jack stopped trying to get up. "He isn't... I-I mean, he's—Daniel's okay, isn't he?"

"I don't know, yet," Janet answered softly. "Daniel lost a lot of blood. We were able to stop the bleeding and he's stable, for now, but I have no way of knowing how much damage was caused until he regains consciousness."

The gauze covering the man's eyes suddenly felt moist against his eyelids. "I should have done something," he murmured.

"Sir, it's not your fault. You had no way of knowing."

"No," Jack insisted. "No, I knew something was wrong—he just wasn't being Daniel. We should have just stopped and waited for help."

"And then it would have taken even longer to find you guys and Daniel could be dead," the woman countered. "Beating yourself up over this isn't going to help anything."

Jack didn't argue, but it didn't change the fact that he still blamed himself. He was the team leader—when something bad happened to those under him, how could he not be responsible?

* * *

 

Carter just kept talking and talking, telling him everything she had been able to find out about the device before it had been obliterated. Jack was unable to focus on anything she was saying. He blamed it on the eye patches. The man tried to pretend that he had fallen asleep, but that didn't seem to be working for him very well.

"Carter," he finally said.

"Yes, sir?" she asked.

"Tell me about it some other time." He had tried to keep his tone even, but after years of working with the man, she knew him too well. She knew that his current intolerance for her 'technobabble' was rooted in the very thing that made her want to keep prattling on about something, anything. She also knew that it was responsible for the uneaten food on his breakfast tray. Jack could usually eat regardless of the circumstances, but when something serious happened to one of them...

"Yes, sir," the blond-haired major murmured softly. They fell silent, Sam sitting in a chair with her ankle elevated and Jack leaning his head back against the pillow.

He turned his face in her direction. "Ever notice how quiet the infirmary _isn't_?" he asked. She tilted her head to listen—the steady hum of equipment, the beeping of a heart monitor across the room, nurses and other medical personnel speaking quietly... so many different sounds. The infirmary really wasn't a very quiet place.

"Sir," she began.

He cut her off. "Save it, Carter." Despite the abrasiveness of his words, his tone held no malice. It was just... he already knew what she was about to say and he didn't want to hear it.

Sam sighed. She wanted to tell him that it wasn't his fault that Daniel lay unconscious in a private room, that Janet had worry in her eyes when she spoke about his condition. She wanted to say something that would lighten the blame that Jack was carrying on his shoulders, but she couldn't. If she were to say any of it, it would have been hypocrisy, because the truth was, she was doing the same thing. Torturing herself, blaming herself for not knowing about the impending meteor storm before it happened. There were ways, she knew. With the proper equipment, she could have known ahead of time that the sky was about to fall. If she had, Daniel and the colonel wouldn't have been hurt, she wouldn't have been hurt. All of the villagers could have been saved, too. But she hadn't.

And so, they sat there in silence, commanding officer and second-in-command. Neither spoke. Each one knew that the other blamed him or herself. Each one knew that the other was wrong.

* * *

 

He stood there in the adjacent observation room, his thoughts full of the beeping of medical equipment. At least the man was breathing on his own, now. That had to count for something.

It never got any easier. How many years had it been already? And it still hadn't gotten any easier. One would think he'd have been used to it by now. He wasn't.

General Hammond let out a deep sigh, watching the subtle rise and fall of Daniel Jackson's chest as he lay unconscious in the room below. What was with the members of SG-1, anyway? Sometimes it seemed that they had just as many missions go horribly awry as ones that went off without a hitch. For a moment, he tried to count the number of times he had waited by one of their beds, but he lost count soon after he'd started—there were just too many.

"Sir?" Janet broke the silence, her tone gentle. Hammond hadn't even heard her come in.

"What can I do for you, doctor?" he asked, looking over to meet her concerned gaze.

"Nothing," she shook her head. "I was just going to say that you could go sit with him, if you'd like."

"I think I'll have to pass for now. I really should be getting back to my office," he said, turning his gaze back to Daniel with no intention to cease his vigil.

"Alright," she said. "I was just about to go tell Colonel O'Neill and the others that they can see him, now."

"As you see fit, doctor," the general told her. She left the room and he continued to stand there, his vision oddly blurred. A pair of stray tears trailed down his cheeks, but he didn't bother to brush them away. Perhaps some would say he was too involved, but at the moment, it felt that, somehow, he wasn't involved nearly enough.


	7. Chapter 7

Teal'c was the first to make his way to Daniel's bedside. At a glance, it might have seemed that the man was sleeping, resting for the coming day, but he looked too pale and he lay too still. As much as Daniel Jackson deserved peace in his life, he was too peaceful.

"You have been asleep for more than a day, Daniel Jackson," Teal'c spoke as he sat in the chair next to the bed. "We are all most concerned." The Jaffa inclined his head a moment to meditate on the steady hum of medical equipment. This was not the first time he had sat at a comrade's sickbed, nor did he suppose it would be the last. He knew that Daniel was in the best of care and he had confidence that if anyone could bring him back from the darkness into which he'd fallen, it was Dr. Frasier.

So, Teal'c did the only thing he could do—he talked to him. The old warrior spoke of times and events which he'd never mentioned to anyone before. Some of the stories he told were such that could only be born of Earthly imagination, but they were all true, and he told them all to Daniel as he lay in his shock-induced slumber.

"I have seen and overcome much, Daniel Jackson," Teal'c concluded, his tone warm with reassurance, "as I am certain you will also overcome this."

"That was nice, Teal'c," Sam spoke up from the doorway.

"Yeah," Jack chipped in. "You forgot to invite us for story time, though."

"O'Neill, Major Carter," the Jaffa greeted the newcomers. Sam was seated in a wheelchair, her cast-encased foot elevated, while Jack rested a hand on one of the handles, most likely because she had steered him there as opposed to the other way around. He'd pulled a cap down over his head in an attempt to at least partially hide his gauze-covered eyes.

"There a chair around here?" he asked.

"Over here, O'Neill," Teal'c told him, rising from his seat and leading him over to the chair.

"Thanks, T," Jack told him. "How's he doing?" Sam wheeled herself closer to the bed as Teal'c found another seat.

"Daniel Jackson remains unconscious."

"So I hear," the colonel reached out until he found Daniel's bed, putting his hand on the younger man's arm, as though he needed to assure himself that he was still there. Sam lowered her leg so she could get close enough to lay her head on her arms by Daniel's legs as they talked. And that is how Janet found them when she went in to check on her patient—Teal'c keeping silent vigil as his teammates slept. The doctor had simply shook her head. SG-1 often reminded her of a bunch of hapless puppies; each time one of them got sick or injured, they all became sad.


	8. Chapter 8

It all seemed rather surreal. One moment, he was hiking through trees, mind numbed by a steadily increasing level of pain, and the next, he felt like he was falling... No, that wasn't the right word. _Floating._ That's it. He felt like he was floating, his thoughts a string of worried voices and weapons' fire, gentle prodding touches and ha'tak vessels, all backed by an incessant hum and a rhythmic beeping. It was a little bit of everything dwarfed in a great expanse of nothingness. A darkness had crept over him and he felt himself becoming lost within it, always floating, drifting...

Then, the world felt hazy. Only 'felt' because he had yet to open his eyes to confirm whether it was or not. Something close by was emitting a continuous string of sounds. After a moment, the sounds came into focus and he realized that they were words. Someone was talking to him.

"I dunno, Danny, sometimes it feels like... like someone _up there_ has it out for us. We're always hitting some sort of snag."

He coaxed his eyes opened and blinked, not just because his lids felt heavy from having been closed a long time and his eyes took time to adjust to the dim light, but also because it took him a moment to figure out just what he was looking at. The voice was unmistakable, but the person sitting beside him had his eyes patched over, gauze wrapped around his head with his hair standing up in random tufts of brown and gray.

"Jac..?" his voice came in a hoarse whisper and he coughed for the effort. The eyebrows, having somehow managed to avoid being completely covered, shot up.

"Daniel?" Jack asked hesitantly, thinking he might have imagined it.

"Wha' happened?" Daniel asked, his voice clearly suffering from disuse.

"You were bleeding internally and went into shock," his friend answered, feeling around on the bedside table. "Frasier had to open you up to stop it and we've been waiting for you to wake up ever since."

A moment of silence and then, "What are you looking for?"

"I thought I had a cup of water somewhere around here. I was gonna offer you a drink." His eyebrows were drawn together. He was frustrated. "Probably should hit your call button, too. Let doc know you're awake."

"It's.. it's on the tray table," Daniel whispered. "Call button, too."

"Oh!" Jack reached towards the tray table, his hand bumping into it sooner than he expected causing the water in the cup to slosh over the side a little. The colonel pushed the call button and got a hold of the cup, lifting it up carefully. Using his other hand to follow Daniel's arm up to his head, he offered the drink to him. "Here."

Daniel took a few sips from the straw, finding himself unable to look away from his friend. "What's wrong with your eyes?" he asked, his voice less hoarse, though still weary.

"Ah—it's nothing. Just a little flashburn," the older man answered, then motioned to his eyes. "This is just a little precaution that Frasier and Albright seem to think is necessary." His tone clearly stated that he disagreed with the medical professionals. "How are you feeling?"

"Like Janet has me doped up on the good drugs," Daniel answered wryly. Footsteps hastened their way up the hall and the doctor in question appeared in the doorway.

"Daniel! You're awake!" she exclaimed, obviously relieved. Seconds later, she was taking his vitals and asking him all the questions that go along with it. Daniel thought he saw tears welling up in her eyes, but she turned to do something and when she was facing him again the tears were gone. Jack had been ushered out as Daniel suddenly had a very busy schedule.

The archaeologist sighed, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the pillow. He soon drifted off again, already worn out from the little bit of energy he had exerted. But a thought lingered as he fell back to sleep: it was good to be home.

* * *

 

Jack was feeling upbeat. He couldn't help it—Carter would be as good as new within a couple of months, Daniel had woken the previous day and Frasier had confirmed that he would be alright, and now, finally, he got to get the damned eye patches off.

"Colonel, I need you to sit still," the young doctor tried to sound stern, but he couldn't keep the mild amusement from his tone. Threats of sedation and restraints aside, Dr. Albright was rather fond of Jack, viewing him almost as an elder sibling of sorts.

"I am sitting still," the colonel claimed, fidgeting yet again. He was just itching to get rid of the gauze covering his eyes.

Dr. Albright put a firm hand on his shoulder, pleased to receive the calming effect he'd intended—he really did have a soothing presence for a bearer of pointy objects. "Alright. I'm going to remove the gauze now. When I do, I want you to open your eyes slowly and give them time adjust to the light. And I want you to keep in mind..."

"Yeah, yeah—you have no idea how much damage was done, yet," Jack interrupted. "Just get this stuff off already, will ya?" Dr. Albright let out a huff that was somewhere between a long-suffering sigh and a suppressed chuckle. He did it a lot, actually. It was practically his trademark. He cut through the bandage and slowly unwound it from Jack's head.

"Take your time," the physician reminded him, and for once in his life, Jack listened. Slowly, he raised his eyelids, blinking at the anticipated brightness of the infirmary's lighting. He gazed at his surroundings in astonishment, his fingers curling into a fist in the bedsheets, breath hitching in his throat.

"Colonel?" Frasier's voice, rising in concern as she entered to see the man's stricken face.

"Colonel O'Neill?" Albright's hand was on his shoulder and the sound of his voice suggested that he had bent down to look him in the eye.

Jack felt a tear trickle down his face. He couldn't help it. Finally, he managed to choke out words to express the new reality that was suddenly tearing his world apart. "I can't see anything."


	9. Chapter 9

Sam and Teal'c made their way towards the infirmary. Teal'c walked beside her as she wheeled herself along. He had offered to push her, but she had refused. Truth was, Sam could have probably gotten around just as well on crutches, but she just wasn't ready to endure constantly stiff, worn out shoulders yet. Sticking to the wheelchair, for now, she figured the least she could do was wheel herself. Though, now, she was thinking she should have taken his offer. Who knew getting around in a wheelchair could be just as tiring?

"Daniel Jackson will be most pleased to see O'Neill without his eye patches," Teal'c surmised.

"I think you're right," Sam agreed.

They made their way to the main part of the infirmary where they were going to pick up Jack before going to see Daniel, or at least, that had been the plan before a loud crash echoed down the corridor. They raced toward the racket and the raised voice which could only belong to Jack O'Neill.

"Well, you _screwed up_ , Albright!" Jack was yelling full volume, red-faced and irrational. Equipment had been knocked to the floor, a bed overturned, everything light enough thrown at the medical staff currently on the other side of the room. Janet and one of the nurses were trying to make their way around and Teal'c joined them. There was no need to ask what was wrong, what managed to cause him to lose it in such a way. The colonel's wide-eyed expression told it all.

Sam made a decision. Securing the brakes on the wheelchair, she bent over and picked up a pair of crutches that had fallen (or had perhaps been thrown) on the floor. Hoisting herself up, she made her way into the crossfire. "Colonel!" she called out.

Jack halted at the voice of his teammate. "Carter?"

"Sir, I'm coming over to you," Sam said, making her way through the fallen debris. Everyone else had stopped moving. "Sir?" the blond-haired major put a hand on his shoulder as she stopped in front of him. He allowed the cup he was about to throw to slip from his fingers, bringing up a hand to his face as his eyes brimmed over with tears and he began to cry.

And then Sam wanted to cry, too. For Colonel O'Neill to break down in such a way, it must have hit him hard—and in combination with everything else from the last couple of days, it was just too much. They were the man's eyes, for crying out loud. It had been hard enough for him to depend on others for just a short period of time, what if he had to do so for the rest of his life as well? Sam was certain she wouldn't have responded well, either.

Jack cried silently, his shoulders trembling slightly under the woman's light touch. The blond-haired major didn't know what to do. Psychotic, power mongering aliens she knew how to handle, but somebody crying? _Jack_ , her commanding officer and the strongest person she knew, crying? She was at a loss.

Finally, Sam could take it no more. Words would have been worthless, yet somehow she still had to let him know she was there for him. Allowing the crutches to fall back to the ground, she wrapped her arms around him, holding him like he was a lost little boy who couldn't find his mother.

And he let her.

* * *

 

Daniel sat upright in his bed, poking disinterestedly at his jell-o. He'd been conscious for three days, but he still didn't have much of an appetite. Sam and Teal'c had been in and out constantly, sometimes coming together. Jack hadn't been in since the previous morning, though, before he'd gone to get the bandages off his eyes. The archaeologist knew that the man's failure to visit could only mean something was wrong with his eyes, but apparently, Jack wanted to tell him himself.

"Hey, Danny-boy." Speak of the devil.

"Jack," Daniel looked up to see his teammate in the doorway, Janet at his side, her hand lightly touching his elbow.

"Thanks, doc," Jack told her. She withdrew her hand but remained in the doorway as he made his way across the room, moving forward until his hand made contact with the back of the chair. He sat down and the doctor left.

"You're wearing civilian clothes," Daniel pointed out. Somehow, it was the only thing he could think to say.

Jack's gaze was directed at his own knee. "Yeah," he spoke softly. "I'm heading home after this." It was all wrong. The whole situation was wrong. Jack should have been making cracks about how even nature was out to get them, and how Janet and the other doctors were overly cautious. The older man should have him smiling or rolling his eyes by now. Instead, Jack wouldn't even look at him. Instead, the air was tense and Jack was quiet. Instead...

"What's wrong with your eyes?" Daniel asked quietly. Jack looked up and Daniel was stunned to see that tears had formed there. _Tears._ Jack O'Neill didn't cry. The scientist felt panic rise up within him. "Jack..."

"I can't see anything, Daniel," Jack finally answered, his voice thick.

Shock. "B-but Janet or Albright knows someone who can fix it, right? I mean—you're not going to stay this way." Daniel felt tears forming in his own eyes, blurring his vision. "There must be some way..."

"There's a chance," the colonel finally interrupted his desperate ramblings, "there's a chance that some of my vision might return, but realistically... it will never be the same."

"Meaning..?"

"Meaning, it's finally time that I retire," Jack rose up from his seat. "I'm glad you're doing alright—I really mean it. I just wanted... I wanted to make sure I said goodbye before I left." He turned to leave and after a couple steps, Teal'c was there to offer his arm to the sightless man. The Jaffa must have been standing in the doorway, though Daniel hadn't been aware of his coming.

"Jack!" Daniel cried out suddenly as they reached the door.

Jack swallowed the lump in his throat. "Yeah?"

"Keep in touch. Alright? You gotta keep in touch." The colonel nodded and then he was gone.

Daniel stared dejectedly at his jell-o. It should have been him.


	10. Chapter 10

He couldn't remember where he'd placed the remote. It wasn't on the coffee table, nor had it been swallowed by the sofa. It was nowhere near his chair or the TV... hell, he'd even searched the kitchen counter. Frustrated, Jack gave up the search and turned the television on the old-fashioned way. He stumbled back to the kitchen as the newscaster gave the 5 o'clock news report.

" _Colonel, there's a chance your condition is temporary—you could regain some, even most, of your eyesight..."_  Frasier had said. More of her 'stay positive' crap.

"Ow! Shit!" Jack cursed as he stubbed his toe against a piece of furniture. His house wasn't exactly blind man friendly. He never realized how much he had depended on his sight to get around safely in his own home.

" _What are the odds of that happening?"_

" _Well, sir... you've faced worse odds."_

Jack pulled open his refrigerator, reaching in and pulling out a beer before limping over to the counter. He opened a drawer and rifled around. His bottle opener was missing.

" _Albright,"_ Jack had demanded, growing frustrated. _"What are the odds?"_ He felt that the younger doctor would be entirely frank with him without feeling the need to put a positive spin on things.

" _Ten percent,"_ Albright had answered. _"At most, maybe twelve."_

Not in the dish drainer, not in the freaking sink... the goddamn bottle opener was nowhere to be found. Having reached his threshold, Jack hurled the beer bottle at the dining room wall where it gave a satisfying _smash_.

" _Colonel, there are treatment options we can still explore—"_

" _Yeah, and according to you and Albright, those options could just as easily do more harm than good. Thanks, but I think I'll pass."_

" _Colonel!"_

Jack was starting to feel a little better. That is, until he remembered that he now had to clean up the mess so he wouldn't end up slicing his foot open on the broken glass. Grabbing the trashcan, he dragged it into the dining room. Finding the spot where the shards had landed, or at least most of them, he proceeded to pick them up and throw them away.

"Sonuvabitch!" he yelped as he cut the side of his hand on one of the pieces. Just then, the doorbell rang. Rising to feet, he fumbled his way to the door and yanked it open. "What do you want?" he demanded crankily.

"Sir?" Carter's voice. "Oh, my god. Colonel, are you alright?" She must have noticed he was bleeding.

There was only one thing to say, and Jack hated to say it, but he had no choice. "I think I might need a little help," he admitted miserably.

* * *

 

Injury properly sanitized and bandaged, mess cleaned up, and remote and bottle opener found, Sam sat in the chair across from the sofa where she had put her CO for safe keeping, beer in hand.

"Alright, so this has been bugging me—how did you get here?" Jack asked. "I mean, it is your right leg that was injured, right?"

Sam laughed softly, sipping at her own beer. "It was certainly different from usual," she confessed, recalling her drive over. "But not impossible."

"Yes, well, I suppose it probably helps that you own an automatic," her CO grimaced.

"It's a good car!" she defended.

"But still inferior to its manual counterpart."

Sam rolled her eyes. "Whatever."

Jack sloshed the fluid around his bottle for a moment before finishing it off. "So, uh... thanks for coming over. I really appreciate it."

"It's not a problem, sir," she responded. "You didn't think we'd just forget about you, did you?"

He reached forward to put his empty bottle on the coffee table. "I don't know," he said. "I guess maybe the thought might have crossed my mind."

"Sir, no matter what happens, you're still part of the team!" Sam exclaimed, leaning forward in her seat. "We're going to find some way to help you."

"Don't bother."

"What about a healing device?"

"Carter, you know how difficult it is to get any help from the Tok'ra—besides, I'd rather _not_ be in their debt."

"Let me try. Sir, it's worked before."

"And if it doesn't, then, you'll be blaming yourself," Jack pointed out.

"At least we would have tried something!" Sam protested. "Sir, it's like you're just rolling over and letting this win—this isn't like you."

"I can't see anything, Carter," the man spoke, emphasizing every word. "Maybe, if it had been my leg or ankle, I would be a little more like myself. For god's sake—I can't even clean up after myself without help! You think I don't want to hope that my sight will come back? That we'll be able to find some sort of solution? Do you... do you have any idea just how hard it is for me?" He stopped, tears stinging his eyes yet again—what was wrong with him?

There was a hand on his shoulder. He hadn't even heard her cross the room. "I do," she told him. "We all do and that's why none of us are going to give up without a fight. Sir, you gotta hang in there."

Jack put his hand over hers as he fought back the emotions that once more threatened to overcome him. "Okay," he nodded.

Sam sat down beside him. "We'll figure something out."


	11. Chapter 11

The woman stood, arms stretched before her, eyes closed in concentration. After a moment, her extremities began to tremble from the stress her effort put on her body.

"Sam?" Janet spoke softly.

"One more time," the woman said stubbornly.

"Carter." She opened her eyes as her CO sat and gently pushed her arms away. "It's not working."

"I know, but maybe if I tried focusing just a bit harder..." Sam protested.

"You've been doing that for the past half hour," Jack pointed out. "Look, we already knew it was a long shot—no use beating yourself up over it."

"And part of the reason it isn't working may have to do with the fact that you're recovering from your own injuries," Janet contributed, taking the healing device from Sam.

The Air Force major let out a sigh. "Still—"

"Ah!" Jack held up a silencing finger. "Carter."

"Sorry, sir," she couldn't help a small smile.

"Colonel," Frasier said, "Dr. Albright has looked into a couple of possible treatment options he'd like to discuss with you."

"He has, has he?" Jack asked, scrunching his eyebrows. "He, uh, he didn't have to do that." The man recalled the uncharitable words he had directed at the young doctor the last time he'd been in his presence.

"Well, he was the doctor treating you. He still feels responsible for your care."

"I think I'll talk him a bit later, maybe."

"I think that'd be good," the doctor told him. She briefly rested a hand on his arm before moving on to another task.

"Is there still food around here, or is that only for the sighted?" the colonel asked, turning his head towards his second-in-command.

"I'm sure something can be arranged, sir," Sam replied, positioning her crutches under her arms.

Jack rose to his feet and waved in the general direction of the door with a flourish. "Cripples first," he said.

* * *

 

"It tastes funny," Jack insisted.

"Sir, it tastes the way it's supposed to," Sam returned. They were sitting in the commissary, eating lunch. Jack was working on a dish of jell-o.

"Are you _sure_ it's the right color?" he asked suspiciously.

She sighed. "It's orange."

"Orange? Is that even legal?"

"It's all that they have."

"It is?" Jack turned as though to look over his shoulder at the food counter. "Is there some reason they stopped making blue jell-o?"

"They don't even have red, today."

"They don't?"

"Nope. Just orange and yellow."

"Yellow?" he turned back to face her, saying the word as though lemon-flavored jell-o was some kind of federal offense. "I leave for a few days and the commissary falls apart." Jack shook his head.

"Well, sir, at least they have jell-o today," Sam offered. "Yesterday, they didn't have any."

"Sacrilege."

"Sam, Jack," Daniel greeted them as he entered the commissary. "I thought you might find you guys here." He gave Sam a questioning look and the woman shook her head, an entire exchange of information without a single word uttered:

_'Any luck?'_

_'No. None. It didn't work.'_

"Daniel," Jack said, "shouldn't you still be resting?"

Daniel rolled his eyes. "Don't worry. Janet's still got me on light duty for another couple of weeks," he sighed. "How are you holding up?"

"Oh, you know. About the same," the colonel answered, a tinge of bitterness to his tone.

"I've been meaning to talk to you," said the archaeologist, taking a seat in an adjacent chair. "I've been looking into—"

"Let me guess. 'Possible treatment options'."

"Well, yes, actually. How did you know?"

"Albright's got some he wants to discuss with me later," Jack explained.

"Oh."

"Honestly, though. I, uh—I really appreciate the thought. Thank you."

Daniel clapped a hand on his friend's shoulder. "It's not a problem. I know you'd do the same for me."

And indeed, he would.


	12. Chapter 12

Nearly three months had passed and somehow everything had settled back into an efficient routine. Daniel had spent time off-world with SG-16 studying the ruins found on M42-662. The sandy-haired archaeologist was certain they were the remains of a culture similar to late 18th century Europe. Teal'c had become heavily involved in the training of new recruits. The Jaffa seemed to reap a bit of satisfaction from the task.

"Alright, Major," Dr. Sekime said, "I'm happy with your recovery. You don't have to come to therapy anymore."

"Then, that means..." Sam began.

"I'm clearing you for off-world duty." The blue-eyed major had been dividing her time between working in her lab and therapy. Dr. Sekime had been strict. Sam secretly believed that was partly Janet's doing, but she never said as much.

"Thank you, doctor," Sam told the therapist. She made her way back towards her lab in high spirits. Finally, she could get back to the part of her job she enjoyed the most. She could go out on missions with the team again...

The woman halted mid-step, her mood crashing. For a moment, she had forgotten. There was no team. No SG-1. That had all abruptly changed when Colonel O'Neill had lost his sight. He had tried a couple of treatments with no success – he remained in darkness. At first, the man couldn't help but be depressed, but now he pretended that his lack of sight didn't bother him anymore.

His teammates almost preferred the depression.

Sam walked the rest of the way to her lab and slumped down onto a stool at the table. She found it hard to imagine somebody else as the leader of SG-1. Janet and Dr. Albright had said that there was still a chance the colonel's eyesight would return on its own, but even they seemed doubtful. The more they tried to find a solution, the more it appeared that there was really nothing anyone could do.

It was frustrating. Surely, there had to be _something_.

* * *

 

It was utterly frustrating.

Though, for the most part he was able to get around his home without injuring himself now, he was still housebound. Too much free time and nothing to do with it made Jack O'Neill a very, very cranky person. He felt that he was on the brink of insanity.

Then, the doorbell rang.

It was just after the 12 o'clock news on a Tuesday, so even if his teammates weren't off-world, they should have been working. Deliveries, when there were any, usually arrived around ten. His neighbors didn't know him well enough to be making house calls – if they even realized he was home.

Unable to guess who might be at his door, Jack answered it. "Yeah?"

"Colonel Jack O'Neill?" the voice was polite and sounded rather young.

"Last I knew," he responded.

"You're Dr. Jake Albright's patient, right?"

"Who are you?" the colonel asked in return.

"Name's Alex," came the answer, then the visitor said the last thing Jack would have expected: "Where's the guest room?"


	13. Chapter 13

Just when things appeared to be settling, it seemed the sky started falling all over again. For his part, Jack really was speechless for a moment, which is why "Alex" was already inside his house before he found his voice. One would think everything he'd seen off-world would have left him better prepared for such situations.

"Wait a minute!" the man exclaimed. "You can't just barge into someone's house! And what do you mean, 'Where's the guest room'?!"

"I could just come every day, but that'd be troublesome," said Alex. "Surely, you have a spare bedroom?"

"Not that it's any of your business," Jack retorted. "What do you want?"

"You lost your sight, right? Might not get it back? I'm gonna teach you how to get around without killing yourself." Alex's voice was moving in the direction of the living room. "You've got a nice house."

"Forget it. I'm not interested."

"Dr. Jake thought you might say that. He said to inform you that my placement here is under order of a General Hammond. You can call if you don't believe me."

"Dr. Jake?" Jack murmured to himself. " _Albright_ sent you? Look, I don't know -"

"Oh, wow!" Alex suddenly exclaimed. "You've gotten quite a few awards and medals, haven't you? You're a real hero! Is this a picture of the people you work with? You guys look so professional. They must be close to you. Otherwise, you wouldn't keep pictures of them."

Jack couldn't help but smile. "Yeah," he spoke softly. "That's my team."

"They must be worried about you," Alex said quietly. "I bet you miss them." Sadness had entered the tone – a unique kind of loneliness bred of separation from people dear.

More than his sight, Jack O'Neill missed spending each day with his teammates. Their laughter; Sam's patient smile when he asked her to explain something; Daniel's enthusiasm to discover something new; Teal'c's warm loyalty and wisdom – he missed it all. Instinctively, he knew this Alex bore a similar pain.

"Ah! The bedrooms are back this way, right?" Alex asked, walking pass him to the opposite end of the house.

Jack snapped out of his reverie. "Hey! No one said you could stay here, yet!" he shouted, though, no one was about to say otherwise, either.

* * *

 

He crouched behind the low partition, chin tucked to his chest in order to keep his head down out of sight. Despite his best efforts, his heart pounded at a frantic rate, his rough breathing following suit.

_No!_ he thought fiercely. _I can't fail! I won't!_ Several slow breaths were taken in an attempt to calm his shaken nerves before he crept from his hiding place to scurry across the open floor of the warehouse. Pausing at the half-opened metal door, he closed his eyes momentarily to utter a wordless prayer. Plea sent, he rounded the barrier...

… to find himself at the business end of a staff weapon. As his heart dropped into his stomach, the young man could have sworn the corner of the Jaffa's mouth twitched upwards. Before he could ponder this further, however, the blast hit him and he sank limply to the ground.

Laying on the cold cement floor, he stared at the distant ceiling as retreating footsteps echoed through his head. "Sadistic bastard," he ground out.

Sometimes, it seemed Master Teal'c got a little _too_ much satisfaction from stunning the trainees.

* * *

 

Daniel Jackson took off his glasses. He slouched back in his chair, rubbing at his tired eyes. Numerous texts were spread around him, each opened to a different page. The glyphs that SG-4 had taken pictures of were giving him an unusual amount of difficulty.

_Maybe I'm just distracted_ , he thought idly, then murmured aloud, "Who was that, anyway?"

"Who was who?"

The archaeologist looked up to see Sam standing in the doorway to his office. "Sam," he greeted. "Hey, have you talked to Jack lately?"

"I talked to him on the phone a couple days ago," the blonde replied. "Why?"

"Well, I called him earlier and somebody else answered his phone. They said he was in the shower... Does he have someone staying with him?"

Sam frowned thoughtfully. "I don't think the colonel has any family. Think it might have been one of his neighbors?"

"I'm not sure."

"Maybe we should check in on him," the woman suggested. "Make sure he's doing alright."

The man nodded. "After work, then?"

"I'll bring Teal'c," Sam agreed.

* * *

 

The three members of SG-1 had just gotten out of the car when the front door of the house opened and their leader emerged. Jack O'Neill was half-way across the porch when his forward motion was seemingly halted.

"Now what?" he demanded irritably, working to free the back of his shirt from the hold of someone his teammates didn't know.

"Are you aiming to hurt yourself? Surely, you know how to tie your own shoelaces." The words, though they might have been condescending, lacked any such heat. On the contrary, they were spoken as a mild rebuke, and somehow managed to sound polite. "Colonel Jack, I'd rather not have to recount how you got a broken neck due to dangling laces."

"I guess you're right," Jack sighed in defeat, sitting on the porch step to remedy the situation. "You know, you're starting to be a real pain in the -"

"Oh! Colonel Jack, your team is here!" The stranger's countenance brightened in recognition upon seeing them. The person bore pleasant features, with short, dark hair and a fair complexion. High cheek bones and a pointed chin graced the facial features along wide, gray eyes that suggested depth and intelligence.

"They are?" the colonel asked in surprise.

"Indeed, O'Neill," Teal'c replied warmly.

"We thought we'd stop by and see how you're doing," Daniel added.

"I'll grab your mail," the young person told Jack, walking around him and heading to the mailbox. The voice was set at an ambiguous octave.

"Sir, who is that?" Sam asked. "A relative of yours?"

"No. That's Alex," O'Neill answered. "Albright's newest method of driving me nuts."

"I'm here to teach him how to get around without any major mishaps," Alex supplemented, approaching the porch once more and handing over the mail. "You're Major Carter, Dr. Jackson, and Murray, right? It's nice to meet you. I'm Alex."

Sam shook the proffered hand. "Call me Sam," she smiled.

"It's Daniel," the archaeologist said.

Teal'c simply nodded as he exchanged grips with the newcomer.

"Colonel Jack, since your friends are here, I'm going to go do some shopping," Alex told Jack.

"Fine," Jack replied. "Scat. Scram. Outta my hair, already."

Alex smirked in amusement. "I'll be back later."

"Take your time!" he insisted. He turned to his teammates as the car door closed. "Beer?"

"I'll take one, sir," his second-in-command agreed.

"Great! Danny?"

"Sure," Daniel answered distractedly, watching as Alex's vehicle pulled away from the curb.

"What?" Sam asked him.

"I've seen her somewhere before," he responded, frowning as he tried to recall where.

"Alex, you mean? Isn't he a guy?"

"Doesn't she just dress like one?"

"Alex does, indeed, exhibit characteristics of both genders," Teal'c contributed, himself uncertain how he should refer to them.

"Sir?" Sam questioned.

Jack could sense three sets of inquiring eyes upon him. His eyebrows raised as he pondered the inquiry suddenly directed at him. "Um, about that," he finally answered, "I'm not sure, either."


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Important note about Alex following this chapter._

"Man," the young man said to his fellow trainees, "Master Teal'c is tough, isn't he? Talk about no mercy!"

"Stop your bellyaching, Elder," responded a redhead whose name patch read 'Angel'. "You sound like a girl."

"Says GI Jane," scoffed a third trainee called Donovan. Angel rolled her eyes.

"I know you think I'm charming," Elder smirked, tugging off his t-shirt.

The woman gave a derisive snort. "Keep telling yourself that." She picked up her duffel bag and moved to surrender the changing room to her male companions. "Oh, by the way, what do you guys think of the others in our group?"

"Willis is a force to be reckoned with," Donovan asserted. "Doesn't have a thing to say, but he's no amateur."

"That, and he's built like a frickin' tank," contributed the shirtless man. "Brant seems pretty cool. Smart, too. Kinda shy, though."

"Then, there's Hendricks," prompted Angel with an impish gleam in her eyes.

"Oh, don't even get me started!" exclaimed Donovan. "Guy doesn't have a lick of sense."

"I heard he's already been dropped from the training course twice without finishing," said Elder.

"I heard that, too!" Angel confirmed. "It's like 'what the hell', right? Think he'll drag the rest of us down with him?"

"Don't worry. I hear the people from my previous groups all passed." The three of them turned to find that the man in question had entered the changing room.

"Oh, uh... Hiya, Hendricks," Elder greeted half-heartedly. Hendricks wordlessly placed his bag down on a bench as Angel made her exit. Donovan gave the newcomer a look which fully expressed how pathetic he thought the man to be, but Hendricks ignored him. Ten minutes later, he was the only one left in the room.

"I won't quit," he stubbornly told his reflection in the mirror. "As long as I have a chance, I'm not giving up." Truth be told, Jonathan Hendricks had a long history of quitting when something no longer interested him. He had changed his college major four times before his father told him to quit school and join the military.

The door opened again, admitting one of the SGC personnel responsible for Group C's training. "It appears your comrades have left without you," the man noted.

_No comrades of mine_ , Hendricks thought, but responded, "Yes, sir. They did."

Teal'c regarded the younger man. "You do not get along with them," he said knowingly.

A moment of silence, then, "No, sir. They don't seem to like me very much."

"Due to your previous failures."

"Yes, sir," Hendricks raised his bag to his shoulder. "If I might be excused, sir, I have things to do." The Jaffa gave a minute nod and his student made his way to the door.

"Why don't you quit?" Teal'c asked.

Hendricks froze, fingers resting on the doorknob. "Out of everyone, I never thought Master Teal'c would say that to me," he said.

"I did not say you should quit, Hendricks," Teal'c clarified. "I asked why you have not."

"Because this is where I belong," Hendricks answered without hesitation. "I've never had to work for anything before. Everything has always come easy to me because I'm smart. Even when I first joined the Air Force, although I wasn't the most physically fit, I still excelled better than most. I've never wanted to do anything with my life because everything came too easily. Then, I found out about the Stargate Program. From the moment I was first selected to receive this training, I knew. I found what I wanna do with my life."

"But you failed. Twice." Up to this point, they had stood facing away from each other.

Hendricks turned away from the door. "But I was given the chance to try again. I don't care how humiliating it is, or how many times I have to try again – I'm going to keep trying till I succeed!"

"Then, you will surely triumph," Teal'c told him. Hendricks stared. He hadn't expected that.

"Uh..." he said intelligently.

"I shall see you again in the morning," the dark-skinned man said, passing Hendricks to leave.

"Yes, sir," Hendricks responded, having recovered from his astonishment. He suddenly felt a renewed determination. Moments before he had wanted to succeed only for himself, but now it was different. Now, he wanted to succeed to prove that Master Teal'c was right when he said he would.

* * *

 

"Elbow."

Jack O'Neill did his best to hide a grimace. "I wasn't moving my elbow," he claimed.

"Yes, you were," Alex told him matter-of-factly. "Also, you've let your wrist drop again. Colonel Jack, I've reminded you at least a dozen times that your hand needs to be centered in front of you at the level of your waist."

"Can't I just get a seeing-eye dog?" Jack moaned, running the hand that wasn't holding the white cane through his hair. Their forward motion had come to a halt.

"No," Alex responded.

" _'No'_? Why not?" the colonel demanded.

"Because you would still need to learn how to get around with the dog," came the answer. "Furthermore, I can't teach you something I don't know. Now, did you want to go home or are we sleeping here in the park, tonight?"

"You're a pain in the ass. You know that, right?"

"I'm sure I could manage to be a bigger pain, if you'd like."

"Thanks, but I think I'll pass." The colonel extended the cane out in front of him once more and began to sweep it back and forth in an arc, careful to try to keep his arm still. They moved forward along the sidewalk in silence for a moment.

"Your rhythm's off."

Jack clenched his jaw. After two days, it seemed that Alex was being more and more critical of his technique and had yet to praise him. "Anything _else_?"

"I was going to wait until you started to get a hang of it, but you really shouldn't drag the tip of your cane like that," Alex said. "You should hold it just above the ground and touch down every few inches." Aggravated, Jack threw the offending cane to the side. It hit something before tumbling to the ground.

"Was that a bench I hit?" he asked.

"Yes. You really should be more polite – I'm pretty sure that bench never did anything to you."

"Ha. Funny. Can we sit for a few minutes before we continue?"

"Of course." Alex offered a forearm and led him over to the bench, picking up the cane when they drew near. The young person retrieved a couple of water bottles from a pack and handed one to Jack. Some birds twittered in a nearby tree and a cool breeze scented of flowers was a reminder that the day would soon come to a close. Jack finished half of his water in one drink.

"Hey," he said, "I've been wanting to ask you something."

Alex looked over at him from the opposite end of the bench. "Yeah?"

"Yeah, uh – what are you?"

"Caucasian, mostly. Why?"

"No," Jack amended, "I mean, are you a guy or a girl?"

"Oh. That," Alex answered disinterestedly. "A girl, I guess."

"You _'guess'_?"

"Well, technically, I'm both, but I'm a bit more of a girl than a guy. Never really thought about it."

"How could you not think about something like that?" O'Neill asked. "What did your parents call you?"

"They called me 'Alex'," Alex smirked, then shrugged. "My grandparents call me their 'granddaughter', though, so you can refer to me in the feminine if you like."

The man's brows drew together. "I, uh, I noticed you referred to your parents in the past tense," he said.

"They died when I was six."

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I don't remember a whole lot about them." Judging by the silence which followed that statement, however, Jack was willing to wager that she remembered plenty.

"So, a hermaphrodite," Jack spoke up after a moment. "Are you attracted to men or to women?"

Alex laughed. "Why the impromptu twenty questions?"

"Because I'm curious. Men or women?"

Alex rose to her feet as she pondered the inquiry. "I don't know."

"What?" Jack also stood, taking the cane when it was handed to him.

"I've never liked anyone that way."

"Never?" the man repeated. "Not even a crush?"

"Not even a small one," she verified, leading him back to the sidewalk. "Hand centered in front of you. Wider arc." They moved ahead.

"Not even once?" O'Neill asked again. "There was never a little boy or girl in grade school that you kissed on the playground?"

"Rhythm. You want the cane to be opposite the foot that's forward," Alex coached. "And I was home schooled in elementary."

* * *

 

_Cheyenne Mountain, Commissary_

"I hear you're going on a mission with SG-8 tomorrow," Daniel said between bites. Sam watched him in mild fascination as food rapidly vanished into his mouth. She couldn't recall the last time she'd seen him eat so voraciously.

"We're heading out first thing in the morning," Sam confirmed. "It'll be nice to get out of the lab for a bit, I guess."

Daniel paused in the midst of inhaling his food. "You sound less than thrilled," he noted. He gave Sam a knowing look. She sighed.

"It's not that they don't seem like good people," the major explained, "it's just... I don't know. It seems like the more we get assigned to other tasks, the more it feels like we're not a team anymore. Teal'c's almost always working with the new recruits and you're practically buried in translation work. Even Colonel O'Neill -" She broke off abruptly, stabbing at her salad with a little more force than necessary.

"It seems like everyone is getting used to us not being SG-1 anymore," Daniel said. He stared down at his food for a moment, having suddenly lost his appetite.

Sam nodded. She gave him a small smile, thankful that he understood how she felt - thankful that she wasn't the only one who felt that way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Concerning Alex:_
> 
>  
> 
> _Biologically, Alex is a hermaphrodite, possessing both male and female reproductive organs, although they present with traditionally female physical attributes and were assigned such at birth. More importantly, however, Alex is agender. At the time of this story's creation, I was not yet aware that being agender was a thing. My understanding of gender was only just starting to grow beyond the gender binary which pervades our society. Due to this, I feel that I did not handle that part of Alex's story as well as I could have done._   
>    
>  _For the purpose of this story, I have retained the female pronouns I originally used in reference to Alex for two reasons:_   
>  _1-Alex told Jack and the team that they could refer to them in the feminine._   
>  _2-At this point in Alex's life and the time in which this story is set, I do not feel that Alex would have realized and/or known that the way they identified was agender._   
>    
>  _Were I ever to write a follow up or sequel to this tale which included Alex, they would be referred to by their proper pronouns, the singular they/them. For this story, despite the inaccuracy, it feels true to the character to leave the pronouns as they are._


	15. Chapter 15

The sun shone brightly down on Team SG-8 plus one. Apart from a few creepy native animals who lurked around at night, curious but harmless, the planet was peaceful and pleasant. It reminded Sam too much of SG-1's last mission, making her painfully aware of the fact that it might have been their last. At present, there was no SG-1, just a place where they used to belong.

"Major Carter," someone was saying her name. In fact, his tone suggested he had already done so several times. "Carter?"

Sam snapped from her reverie. "Sorry. I was just thinking."

"I see that," Major Vance smiled. "I wanted to thank you for joining us again. Last time you were with us for less than a day, so you didn't really get to know anyone."

"Not at all," Sam replied. "Though, I was sort of wondering why you requested me to join you guys. I mean, it doesn't really seem like you need the help." She nodded towards SG-8's members. Dr. Tseng, the archaeologist, and Lieutenant Markham seemed to be having an enjoyable enough time, but the other two just looked plain bored.

Vance chuckled. "Yeah, well, that's not really the reason I asked you along," he admitted.

"Then... why?" the woman wanted to know.

"The people on this team are important to me. I mean, sure, Rita and Markham are dweebs with their science stuff, Gordon scarcely has a 90-second attention span, and Simmons... the girl's a passive-aggressive machine. But, they're my team, y'know?"

"They're like family," Sam said knowingly, wondering where the man was going with the thought.

Vance tore his eyes away from his teammates to meet her gaze. "I'm being transferred next month. I won't be going off-world, anymore. Heck, I won't even be anywhere near the mountain anymore," he told her. "I was really hoping I could leave these guys in your care."

"W-what?"

* * *

 

Dr. Daniel Jackson made his way up the front walk. Having finished his work for the day early, he had decided to pay Jack a visit. He hoped that maybe they could plan a time for the team to get together again. He rang the doorbell.

Nothing.

"Jack?" he called, knocking loudly. Not a sound came from the house. Disappointed, the archaeologist turned to go but paused halfway down the steps. Was that crying?

Slowly and quietly, he rounded the corner of the house. There, on the steps leading to the patio, was Alex. She was hunched forward, cradling her right arm in her lap. She was mumbling under her breath, but judging from the tone, her incomprehensible words were probably curses.

"Alex?"

She jumped in surprise, wincing as the sudden movement jostled her arm. "D-Dr. Jackson," she said, smiling in recognition. "You surprised me. Colonel Jack's not here. He's at an appointment."

"Are you alright?" Daniel asked, crouching down and gently taking her wrist in his hands. "What happened?"

Alex hissed in pain. "I fell," she answered, her jaw unmistakably clenched. "It's fine. Probably just a sprain."

The man studied the injured arm for a moment. Scrapes along her palm and up her forearm supported the claim that she fell, but as her wrist was swollen to at least twice the size it should have been, it probably wasn't 'fine'.

"You really should have this looked at," Daniel stated.

"I know," Alex said, obviously not fond of the idea. "I'll go to the emergency room in a bit."

"Let me take you."

"No – that's entirely unnecessary."

"You probably shouldn't drive like that," Daniel pointed out. "I'll take you." Supporting her by her left arm, he helped her up off the stairs.

"Really, it's probably not as bad as it looks," Alex persisted as they moved towards Daniel's car. "Some ice and a wash cloth and I'll be fine."

"Is that so?" the man asked, giving her a skeptical look. "Did you know you're bleeding?"

"Huh?"

Gently, Daniel lifted her left hand in the air until she could see that her elbow had been cut open. "Your knee is bleeding, too."

Sure enough, her pant leg was torn, and the exposed skin underneath bloodied. Alex ducked her head sheepishly. "I am a mess!" she exclaimed with a small laugh.

"I'll drive you to the hospital," Daniel repeated, opening the passenger door.

She sighed in defeat. "Thanks."

* * *

 

Jonathan Hendricks was not usually one to be suspicious of others. The previous two training groups, he had convinced himself that he was merely imagining it, but now he was certain. He wasn't just unlucky enough to always be caught or detained – he was being intentionally ambushed by the instructors.

The man was furious.

Finally able to move again after being stunned by three of Group C's training instructors, Hendricks stalked to the front of the warehouse where the other five recruits waited.

"Oh, there he is," Angel quipped spitefully when he arrived, "the man killed in the blast. Again."

"Klutz," Elder coughed.

"Like any of you even thought of going back to help me!" Hendricks exploded. "We're supposed to be a frickin' team! Can't you see what's happening?" He glared incredulously at the others.

"Lieutenant, if you would step in line, we're ready to give an assessment of Group C's performance," said Major Briggs.

"No, ma'am, I will not," Hendricks replied.

"Excuse me?" the woman demanded. One of her fellow instructors looked surprised and another amused. Teal'c remained expressionless.

"You guys are setting me up!" the younger man accused angrily. "I _never_ catch a break! At first, I thought I was just being careless, then, I told myself it was just coincidence, but every time, I end up looking like a fool in front of these disloyal asses!"

"Hey!" Angel objected. Donovan looked mad.

"Hey, yourself!" Hendricks shouted back at her, glaring at all of them. "None of you are any better! So, maybe I didn't make the cut before, but I'm still here. I'm still one of the best like all of you. None of you did anything to help me out – a team doesn't act that way!"

He turned his fury back to the SGC personnel. "I get it, now," he said. "The Stargate Program doesn't want me. So, instead of just telling me like civilized people, someone decided to just make things impossible for me. If that's what you want, fine, then, sirs and ma'am. Fine!" An angry tear slid down his face as he tore off the uniform jacket. "I quit."

Teal'c's gaze followed the young man as he stormed away. He raised an eyebrow, exchanging a glance with his co-workers.

"Hendricks!" Elder shouted, then laughed, turning to his teammates, "Dude, I think he's snapped."

"He's right, though," Angel said.

"What?" Donovan asked in surprise.

"We've treated him like shit without even giving him a chance. And you guys aren't the least bit ashamed, are you? Unbelievable," she shook her head, partially in shame, partially in admonishment. She started towards the changing room.

"Where are you going?" Elder demanded.

"Are you an idiot? I'm gonna try to stop him from leaving!" Angel broke into a run. Brant adjusted his glasses, shooting a look at Willis, who nodded. They, too, started after Hendricks.

"You guys!" Elder exclaimed. He looked at Donovan, who blew out a breath. "Not you, too!"

"Angel's right," Donovan ground out reluctantly. "I don't like the guy, but we were still assholes." He jerked his head after the others. "Let's go."

"I don't believe this..."

* * *

 

It was like every other appointment he'd had over the past several months. Albright, or some other doctor, would ask if he'd been experiencing any pain or irritation in his eyes. Jack always made sure Albright was aware that he felt Alex was a pain in the ass, but aside from that, the answer was always no. Then, followed a never ending series of tests, in which he was asked if he could sense any light or movement. No. No. _No_ , and...

"Wait a minute," Jack said suddenly. "Do that again."

Dr Albright looked back at his patient. "Colonel, I didn't do anything," the younger man told him. "I just took a few steps across the room to grab your chart... Did you see something?" He closed the distance between him and Jack. The doctor waved a hand in front of his patient's face. "Anything?"

Jack focused for a moment, then blew out a breath. "Guess not," he sighed. "Probably just imagined it."

"That's unfortunate," Albright said, frowning to himself as he wrote in the chart.

"Doc, can I ask you something?"

"Of course, Colonel."

"How long have you known Alex?" O'Neill asked. "It's obvious you guys know each other on a personal level because she calls you 'Dr. Jake'. I don't think I even knew your first name."

"Ah, yes," Albright spoke warmly. "I told her to call me Jake in an attempt to help her feel more at ease, but I became 'Dr. Jake' instead. She tends to refer to everyone in a similar fashion. Very proper. I first became acquainted with her about... six years ago, I guess it's been."

"Six years ago?" Jack echoed. "Wasn't she still in high school back then?"

"She'd already gotten her GED when I met her."

"Then, she decided to learn how to teach blind people to live on their own? What a career."

"No, actually, she..." Albright trailed off abruptly, belatedly realizing his error. He'd grown too comfortable in talking to the colonel.

"What?" O'Neill asked, not entirely sure why Albright had suddenly stopped talking.

"Nothing, sir," the doctor told him. "That's it for today. I'd like to see you again next month. Now, if you'd excuse me, I need to get back to the SGC. Good bye, Colonel."

"Aren't you going to see me to the receptionist?" Jack called after him, then murmured to himself, "And what's with the hasty retreat?"

* * *

 

Daniel sat in one of those hard, uncomfortable chairs found in waiting rooms everywhere, perusing an abandoned newspaper while Alex gave her information to the receptionist. She had told him she could get back on her own, but the archaeologist had insisted on seeing her safely back to Jack's house.

The paper was full of the typical depressing articles and celebrity scandals. Daniel flipped through it, failing to find anything of interest until he reached the front page of the business section.

_'Kens-Corp in Crisis,'_ the headline declared in a bold font. Daniel didn't know a lot about the business world, but he did happen to know that Kensington Corporation was well-known for its research in technology and alternative energy. He also knew that they provided funding to several of the SGC's civilian contractors.

_'News of CEO Bruce Kensington's declining health has reached the ears of competitors,'_ the article read. _'As businessmen line up in the hopes of taking over the large research conglomerate, the question has been raised, "Will Kensington Corporation really fall into the hands of Kensington's heir and granddaughter, A.J. Kensington, or is the company facing its final days?"_

_'According to one source,'_ Daniel flipped through the section to find the end of the article, _'neither Kensington nor his wife have spoken to their granddaughter in seven years.'_

There was more to the article, but Daniel didn't read it, just then. Instead, he stared at the photograph on that page. It showed Kensington with a girl somewhere in her mid-teens. She had long, dark hair and a warm smile. _'Kensington with his granddaughter A.J. after she was named his sole successor at age 15,'_ read the caption.

So, that's where he'd seen her before.

"Dr. Jackson," Alex said, returning to sit beside him. "I really wanna thank you for bringing me here and being willing to wait. I don't really like hospitals, actually. See, recently, I -"

"That you?" Daniel cut in, extending the page towards her.

Alex took it and gazed at the picture a moment, her face expressionless. Finally, she looked up at him again. "And if it is?" she returned.

"I'd ask why the successor to Kens-Corp hasn't been home in seven years."

"The answer to which is absolutely none of your business." As brutally honest as the response was, the look in her eyes was harsher. That gaze demanded that Daniel mind his own business.

"Alex Kensington," a nurse called out.

Alex handed the sheet of newspaper back to him before rising from her seat. "I'll call for a taxi," she told him.

Daniel silently watched her go. Alex Janine Kensington – the sole successor to a corporation the SGC relied upon through several channels; a company that without its successor ran the risk of falling apart. The archaeologist wondered what sort of impact that might have on the SGC. He didn't know a lot about the business world, but from what he could tell, it wouldn't be good.


	16. Chapter 16

Sam stared up at the roof of the tent she shared with Captain Simmons. The blond-haired major wasn't sure how long she'd been awake, but she just couldn't sleep. Careful to avoid bumping into the captain, she quietly crept from her sleeping bag and exited the tent.

It was still dark out, the morning air brisk enough to send goosebumps over her bare arms. One of the native creatures paused to look at her as it passed. It was a quadruped, its bluntly clawed feet seemingly too large for its body. The animal's head was dog-like and it had no tail. It continued on with a low coughing sound, confirming its identity as the creature that had been prowling around at night.

A light from the archaeological site nearby caught Sam's attention and she made her way over. The planet had many half-buried ruins, though it didn't seem likely that anyone had inhabited them in the past hundred years. Dr. Rita Tseng sat in the midst of the work lights, gently brushing the dust from an engraved pillar. The archaeologist hummed softly to herself, some tune from her childhood home. Taiwan, Sam thought it was.

"Ah!" the scientist exclaimed suddenly, her expression brightening. "Mei-Mei, zao an! Whatcha got there?" The creature Sam had encountered before approached the woman, carrying something in its mouth. "Piece of pottery? How pretty – xie xie!" She hugged the animal as one might hug a dog who had just mastered a new trick.

"I don't think General Hammond will let you bring back a pet," Sam said.

"Oh, Major Carter! Good morning," Rita greeted cheerily. "Up so early?"

"I couldn't sleep. What about you?"

"Me? I rarely sleep longer than three or four hours. Major Vance says I make up for Lieutenant Markham being sleepy all the time."

"You all seem close," Sam noted.

"Just like family," Rita confirmed, petting the creature she'd named Mei-Mei. "We don't always get along, but at the end of the day, we'd do anything for each other."

Sam knew how that felt.

"I loved being a grad student."

The sudden change in topic caught the major off-guard. "Huh?" she responded wittily.

"Actually," the archaeologist amended thoughtfully, "I just loved being a student. Being able to learn, the whole ambiance was just so _satisfying._ There was something about being a student that helped stave off the pressures and worries of being an adult. Grad school was my favorite. It was the most challenging."

A gravelly rumble thrummed from Mei-Mei's chest and her ears quivered in apparent ecstasy.

"I loved it so much that I continued to volunteer as a student archaeologist for three summers after I completed my PhDs," Rita continued. "That was when one of my instructors told me I should move on and be a real archaeologist, or a teacher, or something. 'You can't just continue being a student all your life,' he told me. 'You gotta let go.'"

"So, you finally moved on?" Sam asked.

Rita shook her head. "No. I volunteered for two more summers. _Then_ , I moved on when I got the offer I never even knew I was waiting for. I got some great experience and now I have the best job I could ever ask for."

"That's great," Sam said.

"Ah. That look."

"What look?"

"The look that translates, 'I'll smile and humor you, but I have no clue why you're telling me this.'"

"No," Sam protested. "That's not..."

"It's fine – I was just teasing," the Asian woman grinned. She planted a kiss on Mei-Mei's forehead before rising to her feet. "Speaking selfishly, Major Carter, I would love to have you as our new team leader. You seem like a great person. I think we'd have lots more fun."

"Wait – how did you..?"

"I accidentally found out about Major Vance's transfer, so he's been keeping me in the loop," Rita explained. "See, I really would love you to be our new team leader, but I also wanted you to know that I can sort of understand where you're coming from. I know how it feels to be content with how things are and wish that they'll never change. This could be a great opportunity for you, but the thing is, only you can decide when you're ready to let go and to what extent."

"'To what extent'?" Sam echoed.

Rita nodded, brushing dust from her pants. "Forgive me if it sounds a bit callous, but SG-1 could still be a team without Colonel O'Neill, right? There's no rule saying an SG team has to have four or more people."

The major wasn't sure how she should respond to that.

"I guess I'm still a little tired, after all," Rita said, stretching sleepily. "I'm gonna get some more sleep before the others get up." Mei-Mei followed her from the site.

"Sleep well," Sam told her.

If sleeping had been difficult before, now it was impossible. What Rita had said made a lot of sense... and it had left Sam more confused than ever about what she should do.

* * *

 

"Seventy-seven, forty," Jack said.

Alex came to look over his shoulder. "You got the cents right," she said. "The dollars are all wrong, though. You have a total of 58.40 – 2 twenties, 1 ten, 1 five, and 3 ones. You got them backwards."

Jack's eyebrows furrowed together. "I did?"

"Remember? Ones are folded twice, fives in half the short way, tens lengthwise, and twenties not at all."

"I thought it was the other way?"

"That's how I suggested, but you insisted on doing it the other way."

"Why do I even have to be able to count money?" the colonel demanded. "Can't I just use credit cards?"

"If you want," Alex said patiently. "Colonel Jack, you're the one who asked me."

"Right, well, I think I've changed my mind."

"Good. Don't go anywhere that only takes cash."

"Must you say it so flippantly?" Jack demanded.

Alex laughed. "I do believe I learned that from you, Colonel Jack."

"Well, you don't have to learn it so well."

"What can I say? I've always been a quick study," Alex quipped. "Try this." She put a plate in front of him.

Jack poked at it suspiciously with the fork she'd given him. "What _is_ it?"

"A new recipe."

"For what – mush?"

"It's cobbler," Alex growled. It was a familiar tone, actually, as Jack seemed to have a talent for annoying people, and he could just imagine her expression. It was the first time Alex had taken such a tone with him. So, he could get under her skin.

"Okay!" Jack relented. "Okay, I'll try it. Touchy, much?" The last part he muttered under his breath.

The colonel didn't need his sight to know that the young woman had fixed him with an intense, expectant gaze. A slight shift of the table indicated that she had leaned against it, ostensibly to get a better view of his expression as he tested her new concoction. He heard her take in a soft but sharp breath and hold it as he lifted the fork to his mouth and took a bite.

Which he promptly spit back out.

"Blech!" he exclaimed, reaching out for the untouched glass of water he had somewhere on the table. "You sure it wasn't a recipe for blackberry _paste_? That was awful!" He downed the glass of fluid in one go, before getting up and making his way to the kitchen for more.

"That bad?" Alex cringed, following him along.

"Lemme guess," Jack said, "the filling was still a bit watery when you put it in the crust?"

"Uh... y-eah."

"Kid, you gotta thicken it first, with cornstarch. It tastes floury, too. How'd you make the crust?"

"Um, I might have guessed a bit..."

"You didn't use a recipe?"

"Oh, I did, it just," Alex floundered a moment for the right wording, "wasn't complete."

"In other words, you only had a list of ingredients without the measurements and instructions," Jack guessed.

"That would pretty much sum it up, yes."

"So, you made blackberry flour _soup_."

"Hey – I've never made cobbler before!"

"And apparently, you suck at it." He could practically feel the glare she shot at him. "You still got more of the ingredients?"

"Yeah, I bought extra in case I messed up," Alex answered sullenly.

Jack made his way across the room and opened a drawer. He shuffled through its contents until he found what he was looking for. Nudging it shut with his foot, he turned and dropped the battered old notebook on the counter.

"On a loose sheet of yellow notebook paper, you'll find a recipe for 'Never-Fail Oil Crust'," he explained. "And in the pantry there should be a red cookbook with a couple good cobbler recipes. I think the page is marked."

"You _cook_?" the girl asked incredulously.

"Kid, I've been _single_ for more years than you've been alive. You don't think I went hungry, do you?"

"But _cobbler_?"

"Oh, hush. I like dessert, okay?" Jack refilled his glass from the sink and took a sip. Alex didn't let him drink beer until late in the afternoon. Sometimes he wondered why he listened to the kid so much.

Alex washed out the large pot she had used the first time and returned it to the stove top. A quick search of the pantry yielded the location of the red cookbook and soon, the blackberry goo was disposed of and a new cobbler was in the making, Jack standing by to make sure she was doing things correctly.

"How's the wrist?" the man asked after giving his approval of the flavor and consistency of the new filling.

"Still a bit sore sometimes, but it's better," Alex answered.

"And how did you hurt it, again?"

"I fell. Not elaborating."

"'Fell' is satisfactory for a few scrapes or bruises. You have your dominant wrist in a brace and stitches in your knee," Jack pointed out, his eyebrows raised expectantly.

"Fine," Alex sighed. "But you can't make fun of me."

"Never," the man said solemnly.

"I, uh... I was trying to learn to skateboard. I was doing fine until I hit a rut in the road at the top of the hill."

Jack stared. "Aren't you a little old for that kind of stuff?"

"Colonel Jack! I told you not to make fun," Alex protested, then added, "It looked fun. I didn't think I'd be so bad at it." Her voice sounded so sheepish and uncharacteristic of her usual take-charge personality that Jack couldn't help but laugh.

"Sorry," he apologized after a moment.

"Right," she murmured, obviously unconvinced. "Watch out – hot pan coming through."

Jack stepped out of the way as Alex moved to pour the filling into the crust. "Hey, Alex?"

"Yeah?"

"Why'd you choose to do this? Teach blind people how to get around, I mean?"

"Oh – this isn't my career, Colonel Jack," Alex told him.

"It isn't?"

"No. Dr. Jake asked me as a personal favor. I owe him a lot, so I agreed."

"'Personal favor'?" Jack repeated, a thought slowing occurring to him. "How do you know Albright?"

"That's right, he wouldn't have been able to tell you," Alex said. "I was his patient, back before he worked for your organization." A creak of the oven door and the scrape of metal on metal indicated that Alex had put the cobbler into the oven.

"'Patient'?" Jack was aware of how he must have sounded, but he seemed momentarily incapable of managing full sentences.

"I had a fireworks accident when I was seventeen. It was Dr. Jake who helped get through the four years that followed. He never let me give up hope, y'know?" she told him. "If it weren't for him, I might not have accepted the transplant. I mean, someone had to die for me to be able..."

"You were blind." It wasn't a question. It was a sudden realization that made Jack see the girl in a new light. She actually _knew_ where he was coming from.

"Yeah. My condition was curable with a corneal transplant, which I received a little more than two years ago," she confirmed. "So, I'm not just some know-it-all. I've been ther - "

Jack suddenly pulled her into a hug. He hadn't been aware of how paternal he had grown towards Alex since she had first barged in through his front door. One thing was clear to him – in many ways, she was still just a kid. Twenty-three _was_ still a kid. And kids shouldn't have to speak of being blind or having surgeries – they should talk about falling off skateboards or messing up cobbler, having crushes and hanging out with their parents.

"Colonel Jack?" Alex grunted, "It's kinda hard to breath..."

Jack released his hold on her, ruffling her hair as she stepped away. He could imagine the perplexed expression on her face, and he smiled. "You got a timer set on that?" he asked.

"Uh," there was a short series of beeps. "Now, I do."

"Alright," he clapped his hands together and headed towards the dining room. "Let's get this money thing figured out."

* * *

 

It had been a warm, sunny day, leaving the temperature perfect for a late afternoon barbecue on the patio. Even blind, Jack could run his grill as though he weren't, but since he had the tendency to cook the hot dogs a little more than Sam preferred, she took over partway through the process. Presently, the colonel was stretched out in a patio chair between Daniel and Teal'c.

"Y'know," he said, "we should really do this more often. It's been awhile."

"Indeed," Teal'c agreed. "I have missed being in the company of all of you."

"I hear ya," Jack said, sipping at his beer. "How's training the new recruits going?"

"One of the trainees have quit, O'Neill."

"Really?" Sam asked. "Was it Lieutenant Hendricks?"

Teal'c nodded. "He felt that he was being treated unfairly."

"That's not true, though," Daniel interjected. "I mean, all the recruits are treated the same, right?"

Teal'c simply raised an eyebrow.

"Wait," Jack demanded in the silence. "He _was_ treated unfairly?"

"I am not yet aware of the full circumstances, O'Neill," said the Jaffa. "But Lieutenant Hendricks had ample reason to come to such a conclusion."

"Are you really going to just let him quit?" Sam wanted to know, extending a plate of burgers and hot dogs towards the men. Jack smelled the fare and reached out to claim a hot dog for himself, eating it plain.

"I am to try to convince him to come to training tomorrow," Teal'c replied.

"Wait," Daniel said, "isn't that your group's final simulation?"

"Indeed." They grew quiet for a moment, each, no doubt, recalling the times SG-1 had helped with the training program.

"SG-8 is helping out with that," Sam broke in after swallowing a bite of burger. "Captain Simmons seemed really thrilled about it."

"Captain Simmons enjoys shooting the recruits with intars," Teal'c stated.

The major let out a laugh. "Y'know, I can see that," she grinned.

"Remind me never to make Captain Simmons mad," Daniel murmured. "Oh, by the way, Sam, how was your mission with SG-8? I heard there were a few interesting ruins on the planet."

"You and your rocks," Jack teased. Daniel rolled his eyes. The colonel didn't need to see it to know that he had – it was virtually an immutable law: Jack mocks his profession, Daniel rolls his eyes.

"Actually, there were," Sam responded, ignoring Jack's interruption. "Dr. Tseng was thrilled. She even befriended one of the native animals – it was like her puppy."

"Were they short people?" O'Neill asked.

"No, actually, SG-8 is a five man team. Everyone was there."

"Then, why did you go? I mean, it sounds like it was a rather peaceful mission."

"It was," the woman confirmed, picking at her hamburger bun.

"Sam?" Daniel leaned forward, noting his teammate's reluctance to continue.

"Major Vance is being transferred next month. He's going to recommend me to take over his team," she told them. Silence reigned for a whole minute or two.

"That's great, Carter!" Jack exclaimed.

"Sir, I haven't said I would do it, yet," Sam protested.

"You should," he told her. "You'd do great at it."

"Yeah," Daniel agreed. "It's great news." Somehow his smile didn't seem to quite reach his eyes. Sam found herself slightly relieved at that. She only wished that the colonel would show a little more remorse at the implications of her taking command of another team. If she took Major Vance's place, SG-1 really would be disbanded. They really would cease to be a team.

Sam wasn't ready to let go to that extent.


	17. Chapter 17

"Colonel Jack?" Alex called softly, opening the front door. Light came from the kitchen and the television in the living room. "I'm back." She set a newspaper down on the side table next to the doorway. "Are you awa – oh. Dr. Jackson. Where's Colonel Jack?"

Daniel gestured towards the sofa where Jack lay sprawled out, remote still in hand. "He fell asleep about an hour ago. I think," he told her.

She nodded. "I didn't see your car."

"Yeah, I had to park up the street."

"Oh, I see. Are you staying here tonight?" she asked, moving to the kitchen to get a drink of water.

"Thought I might crash on the couch," Daniel answered, his attention drawn to the paper Alex had set aside. It was folded back so that a picture in the business pages faced outward. He picked it up and followed after Alex.

"Would you like something to drink?" she inquired as he stepped into the room.

He shook his head. "You seem to miss him," he said.

Alex looked up at him. She set her glass down before snatching the paper from him, folding it over so the picture of her grandfather no longer showed. "Do you make a habit of going through other people's stuff?"

"Technically, it wasn't _in_ your stuff," Daniel pointed out.

"Whatever." She drained her glass and moved towards the spare bedroom.

"Why don't you go home?" the archaeologist asked. "I mean, it's obvious that you think about them. Did you have some sort of argument? A fight?"

"Why do you even care?" she demanded, turning to face him. "It is _none_ of your business."

"So, you are angry. Don't you think seven years is a long time to hold a grudge?"

That did it. "Look," Alex growled, "it's not just some petty grievance, okay? The first wrong was mine, _I_ left – I can admit that – but one wrong does not cancel out another. I lost my sight. I was _blind_. My grandparents didn't even visit me in the hospital after my accident. They couldn't be bothered to even pick up the phone and call." Tears shone in her eyes and her voice had become thick with emotion. "You know what they did? They sent a _card_. A card! I couldn't even read it. That's something you do for smelly Uncle Fester that nobody likes because it's obligatory. Who does that for someone they love? I'm their _granddaughter_!"

"Alex..." Daniel began, suddenly sorry he had brought up the subject in light of her tears.

"You don't know anything!" Alex sobbed. "The least he could have done was call me. 'Alex, how're you holding up? Are you okay? … Sweetheart, do you wanna come h-ome?' You know nothing about my family. That's why I didn't want you - Forget it. I'm going to bed. I'm tired." She turned, scrubbing the tears from her cheeks with both hands as she fled.

Daniel mentally kicked himself. He had no idea he'd be opening an old wound like that. One thing was certain, though: Alex missed her grandparents, especially her grandfather. She missed them a lot.

* * *

 

Slightly raised voices from the kitchen woke him. More precisely, one slightly raised, very upset voice from the kitchen woke him. Jack waited out the 'conversation' silently, unable to hear any of the actual words, head turned towards the sound. The thump of Alex-sized feet disappearing hurriedly up the hall followed, then all was quiet again.

Jack blinked. He could have sworn he _saw_ something. Not so much an actual object, but more like... a shadow moving across shadows, vaguely humanoid in shape. The lamp across the room clicked on and the apparition went away.

"Jack?" Daniel's voice. He just noticed that he was awake.

"Making women cry now, are we, Daniel?"

"The conversation didn't go as well as I hoped," the younger man admitted sullenly.

"Ya think?" Jack snorted, swinging his legs off the couch so he was sitting. "What was Alex so upset about?"

"Well... What do you know about Kens-Corp?" Daniel asked in reply.

"Big research conglomerate, ran by a rich guy named Kensington. Several of the SGC's private contractors are funded by them," the colonel responded, wondering what the heck that had to do with anything. "Why?"

"Alex is Kensington's granddaughter, and she – "

"She hasn't been home in seven years."

"Right."

"I still listen to the news, Daniel, even if I can't watch it." Jack ran a hand through his hair.

"Jack," Daniel said, "it's obvious that Alex wants to go home. Her and her grandparents just had a mis-"

"Daniel," Jack interrupted firmly. "Leave it."

"But, Jack, don't you think we should do something?"

"She's twenty-three, Daniel. I think we should just stay out of it. It's like... Little Bo-Peep's sheep – she'll go home when she's ready."

"But Jack..."

"Daniel," Jack waved a silencing finger towards his friend. "She's a grown _woman_. Neither one of us are in the position to tell her what to do. Leave it alone."

Daniel let out a defeated sigh. Jack was right, of course, but he still wished he could do something. _After all,_ he thought, regarding the older man sadly, _families should be together._

* * *

 

Jonathan Hendricks made his way through his small apartment. "Coming!" he called as the buzzer was pressed a second time. Pulling open the door, he drew back in surprise. "Master Teal'c!"

"You have not been to training in two days," the dark-skinned man stated.

"No, sir," Hendricks responded. "Because I quit already."

"I do not believe that you truly wish to do so," Teal'c informed him.

"What other choice do I have? Continue being ridiculed in the training program for the rest of my life? What's the point?"

Teal'c, master of words as always, simply raised an eyebrow.

"Master Teal'c, I appreciate what you're trying to do, but I've got too much pride for that."

"Perhaps your pride would be better employed in doing as you said you would."

Hendricks blinked, confused. "Huh?"

"You claimed that you would not quit," Teal'c reminded him.

"'As long as I have a chance'," the younger man countered.

"Which has yet to be taken from you."

Hendricks stared, his heart slowly picking up pace as the meaning of the Jaffa's words dawned on him. _The Stargate Program – he still had a chance at the Stargate Program! Then... they weren't trying to force him to quit? Would they really let him come back..?_

"I have come to see that you make it to today's training session," Teal'c told him.

"Yes, sir!" Hendricks exclaimed, a smile overtaking his features. "Ready in a moment, sir!" He dashed back to his bedroom to change, leaving his apartment door open and forgetting to offer Teal'c something to drink. Teal'c's mouth turned up in a small smile. He looked forward to seeing how the lieutenant would perform in the day's event.

* * *

 

"Today," Captain Simmons declared to a couple of her friends as they entered the commissary, "is going to be a blast."

"You're sadistic," accused one.

"Hey," she returned, "newbies gotta learn sometime." The rest of their conversation was lost as they moved farther away from where Sam was sitting. It was about an hour before Training Group C entered the base for their mock foothold situation. Granted, the new recruits wouldn't know it was all an act. Well, hopefully they wouldn't. The day's event was set to determine whether the newcomers were Program material or not. Few recruits failed at this point in their training, but there had been some who just couldn't handle it.

"Major Carter, good morning!"

Sam looked up into the familiar smiling face. "Dr. Tseng," she returned. "Good morning."

Rita took the seat across from her. "Some of the pictures I took during our mission turned out really well, so I printed them out. I thought you might be interested in keeping a few."

"Thank you. That's really thoughtful," the major said, taking the stack of photos extended to her. Rita had convinced everyone on the team to get in on a picture with her and Mei-Mei. Lieutenant Gordon and Captain Simmons had both kept their distance from the animal, whereas Major Vance had planted a kiss on the top of its head as the picture was snapped. Lieutenant Markham had opted to shake hands with a cap-wearing Mei-Mei. Rita and Sam had sat on either side of the animal, smiling for the camera.

There were numerous other pictures: Rita and Markham in the archaeological site; Gordon showing off his well-polished weaponry; Simmons doing her duties with a no-nonsense expression; meal-times with Major Vance playing the clown. The final picture caused a small lump to form in Sam's throat. It was the one she had taken of SG-8 - of _their_ team. They looked so comfortable with each other, so close-knit.

Rita regarded Sam's expression, smiling in realization. "Oh," she said knowingly. "You've made your decision."

Sam nodded, setting the pictures down on the table. "Yeah," she replied. "I have."

"That's good," the archaeologist beamed. "I'm glad."

* * *

 

Jack ambled into the living room. The television was on, the volume low. Daniel had just passed him on the way to the shower, having slept in because he had the day off. That meant Alex had to be the one watching the set.

"Whatcha watching?" he asked her.

"Oh, good morning," Alex responded. "I didn't wake you, did I?"

"No," Jack yawned. "Whatcha watching?"

"It's just a press conference. I can change it to the news."

"Don't. Turn up the volume, though. Don't know how you can hear it that low." He sat down in a chair, leaning back as Alex raised the volume.

" _I would now like to invite CEO Bruce Kensington to the stand,_ " said a man who sounded a little too exuberant. " _Mr. Kensington._ " There was polite applause in the background as the audience welcomed the new speaker. Then, it grew choppy and died down, replaced by confused murmurs and concerned voices. " _Mr. Kensington? Mr. Kensington?! Somebody call an ambulance! ..._ "

The remote control clattered to the floor.

"Alex?" Jack rose from his chair as the chaos on the television continued.

"I..." Alex began, her voice having taken on a distinctly strangled tone. "I gotta go. I'm sorry." She offered no further explanation as she hurried for the door, bumping into him on the way. She hadn't quite managed to close the door behind her.

Jack ran a hand through his hair, concern for Alex not the only thing running through his mind. He had to have been imagining things, again. It was the only explanation. In that moment when Alex had run into him, he could have sworn he'd captured a clear view of her profile as she passed. But, all shadows or not, that just wasn't possible.


	18. Chapter 18

General Hammond led his fellow officer through the SGC corridors. Few people came to observe the training simulations since they had first been employed, though there were still exceptions.

"Today's simulation should be starting in about a half hour or so," he told the visitor as he led him into the security monitor room. "Feel free to make yourself at home."

"I will, George," the man said, turning to greet the security officers. "Airmen."

Hammond left him in their care, hurrying to his office to do some paperwork before Group C arrived. Once they did, he wouldn't be getting anything done.

* * *

 

"Teal'c, I've been calling you for the past ten minutes to tell you we're not having training today," Major Briggs declared, walking towards them as they approached the training warehouse. Her face was taut with concern, eyes serious. "I'm sorry, lieutenant. Just go back home for the day."

"What?" Hendricks demanded. "Ma'am, what's going on?"

"She got a phone call," Elder spoke up. "It sounds like there's a foothold situation at the SGC."

"If that's the case, we wanna help," Donovan added. "With all due respect, ma'am, we're all you've got – you need us."

"Yeah," Angel said, Willis and Brant murmuring their agreement.

"You guys have got to be kidding me!" Briggs exploded. "You people can't even look out for each other. What in the hell makes you think I want you watching _my_ back? Master Teal'c and I are going in alone. End of discussion."

"Isn't that reckless?" Hendricks asked. "You can't be certain what you guys would be walking into. Ma'am, you'd stand a greater chance of succeeding if we went with you."

"Says the _brave_ little soldier who quits when things get a little tough."

Hendricks diverted his gaze momentarily, clenching his jaw until he was able to swallow down the retort that had sprang to his lips. "I never said we didn't make mistakes, ma'am," he said finally, "but, as much as I hate to agree with the guy, Donovan's right. You _need_ us." Her admonishing gaze was met with one of stubborn determination.

The major turned towards the other recruits. "So you jokers agree with this guy?" she demanded.

"Yes, ma'am, we do," Donovan answered, the others nodding along.

"Teal'c, what do you think?"

"I believe we stand a much greater chance of success with their assistance," Teal'c responded.

Briggs let out an aggrieved sigh. "Fine. But one tiny little slip-up and I'll shoot all your asses, myself," she threatened. "Let's move, people!"

The event was on.

* * *

 

"Daniel, are you sure you dialed the right number?" O'Neill asked, wearing a tread in the kitchen tile.

"Yes, Jack. I told you, it went straight to her voice-mail," Daniel answered patiently.

"And you're positive it was hers?"

"Yes. Look, I know you're worried about her, but Alex probably won't be answering her phone any time soon," Daniel reasoned. "She just watched her grandfather have a heart attack on national television less than three hours ago."

"Daniel, she has to travel clear across the country to get to where he is. What if she gets in an accident or something?"

"Jack."

The colonel stopped pacing. "Yeah?"

"She'll be alright."

"Yeah, you're probably right," Jack admitted, running a hand through his hair.

"Is that all that's bothering you?" Daniel asked. The man knew him too well. "I mean, I know you're concerned about Alex, but it isn't like she just disappeared. You know where she's headed. There's something else, isn't there?"

Jack put on his poker face. "What makes you say that?"

"I don't know. Years of working together, maybe? What is it?" the younger man wanted to know.

"Nothing." _I think I might be starting to see things again._ "I just got used to the kid being here, is all." _But I'm afraid I'm just imagining it._

"If you say so," Daniel said, realizing he wasn't going to get anything out of the man just then.

Jack grabbed a beer from the refrigerator and popped the top. Alex could lecture him about drinking so early in the day when she came back. At the moment, he needed it.

* * *

 

To all appearances, nothing was amiss within the labyrinth of concrete corridors that was Stargate Command. Except the fact that there was no one about. There was no sound, save a low incessant hum coming from the PA system.

"What the hell?" Elder muttered under his breath, pressing a hand against one ear. "What're these aliens trying to do – irritate the hell outta everyone?" Briggs shot him a look and he shut up.

"It is most unpleasant," Teal'c agreed as the small trainee strike-force entered the nearest armory.

"You're not going to give us real weapons?" Angel asked as she was handed a P-90 modified for use as an intar.

"I'm not going to give you _lethal_ weapons, no," Briggs responded. "We have almost no clue what's going on here. I'd rather you be able to shoot first and ask questions later."

"Yes, ma'am," the younger woman murmured meekly.

"Alright. From what I was able to gather from Dr. Tseng before the phone cut out, everyone else on this base seems to be compromised," Briggs informed them. "Somehow, she was able to escape, but possibly not for long."

"Then, we must try to find Dr. Tseng and determine our current situation," Teal'c intoned.

"Correct. Let's split up. Brant, Hendricks, and Donovan, with me. Elder, Angel, and Willis, you're with Master Teal'c. We meet back here in an hour. Maintain radio silence and _don't_ get caught," the major shot a stern look at each of the trainees in turn. "Be safe. Now, let's move!"

Hendricks and Donovan glared at each other for a moment.

Brant adjusted his glasses. "Look, if you're not gonna follow the major, will you move so I can?" he pushed through between them, causing both of them to collide with equipment along opposite sides of the armory.

Donovan looked mildly surprised. "Huh," he said. "The guy can speak full sentences."

"No kidding," Hendricks agreed as they followed after their teammate. "Next thing you know, Willis will actually _say_ something."

* * *

 

People in the corridor parted to make way, gawking at the person who passed. "Is that..?"

"Miss Kensington," one reporter, braver or, at least, less inhibited than the rest, moved to intercept her. "Miss Kensington, rumor has it that you have disowned your family. Care to elaborate?"

"Not now," Alex told him, moving to walk around him.

The man was undeterred. "Why is it that no one has seen you in seven years?"

Alex shot him a whithering gaze that caused him to draw back in uncertainty. "Get the hell out of my way," she growled, her tone low and deadly. He got out of her way and she continued towards her destination.

At the end of the hall, a doctor was speaking to an older woman outside the large, presidential suite. A guard stood on either side of the doorway. The woman glanced up as Alex approached.

"Alex!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around the girl. "Oh, sweetheart – grandma's been so worried about you! I couldn't ever get a hold of you."

"I know," Alex murmured. "That's my fault. I don't blame you."

"You and that grandfather of yours are too proud for your own good!" Mrs. Kensington declared reprovingly.

A flicker of a smile was the only sign of Alex's agreement as she turned to the doctor. "How is he?"

"Fortunately, it was only a mild attack," the physician replied. "Your grandfather needs to rest, but he's stable -"

"You're sure he's stable?" Alex cut in.

"Why, yes. I mean, as long as he doesn't overexert himself..."

"Good." Alex stormed into the hospital room. "Get out!" she told the secretary seated close to the bed. The man looked up at her, alarm spreading across his features as he recognized both the young woman and her expression. Scrambling to his feet with his papers, he hastened from the room.

"Alex," Bruce Kensington smiled as his granddaughter approached where he sat in the bed.

"You DUMMY!" Alex shouted at him. "Are you trying to work yourself to death? There are so many people who could help you – why must you try to do everything yourself?!"

"Alex..." the man spoke admonishingly.

"If you had killed yourself before we made up, I'd have never forgiven you!" Tears flowed freely down her cheeks from eyes laden with worry and fear.

"Come here," Kensington held out his arms and Alex closed the distance between them to be wrapped in his embrace.

"How come you never visited me?" she asked, cheek pressed against his shoulder.

"I did," he murmured, "you just never realized it."

"That's stupid. Is your pride worth that much to you?"

"You told me to stay out of your life."

"You know my temper," she accused, still clinging tightly to him. "I'm just like you."

Her grandfather chuckled softly, planting a kiss on the side of her head. "That's right – just like me," he agreed, his eyes growing misty. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart."

Alex cried. "I'm sorry, too."


	19. Chapter 19

A noise from the large cabinet at the back of the lab drew their attention. Slowly, Donovan and Hendricks approached it while Major Briggs and Brant watched the door. Donovan quietly grabbed the handle and silently counted to three while Hendricks aimed his intar. As the door was jerked open, a frightened squeak escaped from the person inside.

"P-please don't hurt me!" the woman cried. "I swear I don't know anything!"

"Dr. Tseng?" the major left the door to Brant and made her way over to her trembling colleague. "Dr. Tseng, it's okay – we're here to help you." She put her weapon aside to help Rita get out of the cabinet.

"Major Briggs! I'm so glad to see you!" the archaeologist threw her arms around the stunned officer. "I'm sorry I hung up on you like that. It's just, I heard them coming up the hall and I was just so scared, so I hid."

"Dr. Tseng," Major Briggs spoke firmly, placing her hands on the other woman's shoulders, "calm down. Can you tell us what they look like?"

Rita shook her head. "I didn't get a good look at them... they – they might be human. I'm not sure."

"You're not _sure_?" the major repeated dubiously.

"No!" the Asian woman declared reducing to tears again. "I'm sorry!"

"Okay, okay, okay – stop crying. Alright? You're going to come with us."

"O-okay." Dr. Tseng wiped the tears from her face as they moved out of the lab and into the corridor.

"Y'know," Hendricks noted, "with the corridors empty like this, that humming is a bit ominous." Brant nodded and Donovan grunted in agreement.

"What humming?" Rita asked. They all turned to look at her.

"You've got to hear that," Donovan said. The woman looked perplexed, glancing up at one of the PA speakers. As she did so, her hair shifted to reveal a flat, triangular device behind her left ear.

"Major!" Brant spoke up in warning, aiming his intar at the scientist.

"What the hell, Brant? Stand down!" Briggs demanded.

"She has some sort of device attached behind her ear," Brant told her, his aim unwavering. Realizing she'd been found out, Rita withdrew a handgun hidden in the back of her pants. She managed to get off one shot before being hit with a paralyzing blast from the intar.

"Sonuva..." the major ground out, clutching at her right thigh.

"Major!" Hendrick exclaimed, at her side in an instant. "Let me look."

She slapped his hand away, her own stained with blood from her wound. "I can take care of a little flesh wound, myself," she said, her expression obviously pained. "I'll see a doctor after this mess is over with. Brant, what's that device you found?"

Brant knelt over Dr. Tseng's unconscious form, examining the object as closely as he could. "I'm not sure..." he answered. "My guess, some sort of mind control device."

"Think the damned buzzing has something to do with it?" Donovan questioned.

"It would explain why she didn't seem to hear it," Hendricks suggested, rising to his feet as Briggs tied a makeshift tourniquet around her leg above the injury.

"Alright, boys," she said, "I'm not going to be able to walk on this leg for now and I don't think it's a good idea for you to drag me along with you. You're going to help me back to the lab. We'll tie up the good doctor, and then you'll make your way back towards our rendezvous place with Master Teal'c and the others. Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am," Hendricks and Donovan responded. Brant nodded, lifting the archaeologist up off the floor.

"Ma'am, are you sure one of us shouldn't stay with you?" Donovan asked when they reached the lab.

"I'd be willing to stay," Brant spoke up.

"I'll be fine," Briggs told them, settling into a chair. "Just stay out of trouble. If you see anyone, shoot them – it looks like they've taken over our own people."

"Yes, ma'am," Hendricks said. Dr. Tseng tied up and the Major comfortable, the three recruits made their way out of lab and down the corridor.

"They like to set those things on max, don't they?" Rita groaned once they'd departed.

Briggs laughed. "That they do," she crossed the room and untied her. "You alright?"

"My fingers are still tingling, but I'll be fine," the archaeologist smiled, rising to her feet. "I'm not sure which is worse, though, an intar or a zat." She shook her hands in an attempt to regain feeling in them.

"Alright, miss actress – let's make like we've been abducted before my boys find their way back." Rita nodded, and making sure the three trainees were really gone, they departed from the lab in the opposite direction.

* * *

 

Teal'c and his group of recruits ducked into an office as several SGC personnel came around the corner. They wore distant expressions, each sporting a flat, triangular object at their left temple.

"Master Teal'c, what were those devices they are wearing?" Angel asked once the threat had passed.

"I am uncertain," Teal'c answered with a frown.

"What if they're some sort of mind-control thingy?" Elder suggested. "I mean, I could be wrong, but I doubt they're part of the uniform."

"That is a possibility," the Jaffa agreed. They crept from the office and continued up the corridor to their destination: a security room. It was currently unmanned, though all of the monitors seemed to be working properly. Teal'c spotted Dr. Tseng and Major Briggs slipping into the maintenance shaft, but said nothing. The recruits hadn't even noticed.

Instead, their attention was drawn to the monitors showing what was going on in the briefing room, the control room, and the gate room. Major Vance sat perched upon the conference table in what appeared to be the military attire of an alien armed forces. He was giving orders to others similarly attired, as well as several of the SGC personnel. Down in the control room sat two people – one SGC, the other 'foreign'. Next to the PA intercom sat a large, strange device, lights on its front indicating that it was on. The gate room appeared to be empty.

"That device is probably what's making that humming sound we've been hearing," Angel speculated.

"And if it is, I bet it has something to do with those triangle things," Elder added. "I bet, if we take out that thing, everyone will return to normal."

"At which point, the intruders will no long have the advantage."

Elder and Angel turned to stare at their teammate.

"There aren't that many of them," Willis continued. "Likely, the only reason they were able to take the base is because they had the element of surprise. … What?"

Angel shook her head. "Nothing," she said.

"Not at all," Elder added. They exchanged a look that said it all: _He talks!_

"We must go back and share this with Major Briggs and the others," Teal'c said. He stepped out into the corridor.

"Stop right there," a voice commanded before the other three could follow. They quietly retreated further into the room, hiding themselves as best they could. Teal'c raised his hands into the air. "We've been searching for you, shol'vah," the voice continued coldly as Lieutenant Gordon stepped up to him, garbed as one of the intruders. "Take him to the brig," he snarled to those with him.

"Yes, sir!" several voices responded, their owners disarming Teal'c and taking him captive. There were too many for the Jaffa to even stand a chance.

"Mark my words," Gordon declared, "once the rest of our forces arrive, we will claim this planet for the glory of our god. These pathetic Tau'ri cannot be allowed to continue standing in the way." Glancing into the room, they moved on, Teal'c in tow.

" _'Glory of our god'_?" Elder echoed once they'd left. " _'Tau'ri_ '? From what we've learned, I only know of one brand of lunatic that talks like that."

"They're with the goa'uld," Willis growled.

"He said more forces are arriving – We gotta retake the base and stop that from happening," Angel said.

"First, let's meet with the others," Elder suggested. "Let them know what's happening."

"Right," the redhead agreed. "Let's go."

* * *

 

"They took Master Teal'c?!" Donovan exclaimed.

"We didn't even hear them coming up the corridor," Angel said.

Donovan scrubbed a hang through his hair, causing it to stand on end. "Great – we've got a bunch of goa'uld religious zealots creeping around."

"You said that you saw the device that's producing the noise over the PA system?" Brant asked.

"It's in the control room," Elder answered. "Everyone that isn't with the enemy is wearing one of those triangle-shaped mind-control things on their temples."

"So, we need to take out that device and retake the base before their reinforcements come," Hendricks stated.

"Alright," Donovan said, "here's what we do. First of all, we turn on our radios and hope we pick a frequency the enemy's not using. We'll stick with the intars – Major Briggs' 'shoot first, ask questions later' policy just might save our asses. And these," he picked up a couple shock grenades. "We'll all take a few. We split up and use different routes to get to the control room."

"Willis and I will go let the major know what is happening, then approach the control room from the back," Brant said.

"Excellent idea," Donovan agreed. "Angel, you and Elder go down as far as you can using the maintenance shafts, then try to approach the control room from below. Hendricks and I will go take care of the clown in the conference room and descend from above." Everyone murmured their agreement.

"Let's do this," Hendricks said, then added with a wry smile, "Like a real team."

* * *

 

General Hammond and their visitor sat back, watching the events unfold on the monitors before them. Major Briggs stood behind them. Teal'c was being 'held' prisoner in the event the recruits tried to rescue him.

"Major," the visitor said, "I heard that Lieutenant Hendricks was having trouble getting along with the other trainees - that they ridiculed him for having not passed twice before."

The major cleared her throat. "That's right, sir," she answered. "He was having trouble right up until he let all of them and the instructors have an earful about not behaving like a proper team. Then he quit."

The man swiveled around in his chair. "He quit?"

"Yes, sir. Master Teal'c went this morning to convince him to come back in time for this final training simulation," the woman explained. "He really wants to be part of the Stargate Program, and personally, I feel that he's earned it."

General Hammond nodded in agreement. "He really has worked hard, Tom," he told his friend. "You don't have anything to be concerned about."

Tom nodded. "Good, George," he said, "I'd really hate to have been wrong about the kid." They returned their attention to the monitors as Willis and Brant approached the lab where they had left Major Briggs and Dr. Tseng.


	20. Chapter 20

" _Donovan, you copy?_ " Brant's voice came over the radio.

"Yeah," Donovan replied.

" _The Major and Dr. Tseng are gone. No signs of struggle._ "

"Shit," he muttered, exchanging a look with Hendricks. "Copy that."

"So, it's just us, now," Hendricks mused, "the most unlikely team ever left to save the day."

"'Most unlikely'?" Donovan echoed. "I don't agree. We might not like each other, much, but everything else aside, we all want the same thing. We want to protect innocent people from the bad guys. I think that gives us a hell of a lot in common."

"So, your excuse for being a dick to me..?"

"If you really were inept, I didn't want you watching my back."

Hendricks stared at him. "You," he said, "are an ass. But I get your point."

"Sometimes, I can be too quick to jump to conclusions," Donovan grunted. Hendricks didn't comment. It was enough that his fellow recruit had conceded that he sometimes misjudged – he wasn't about to make him say it outright.

They continued on in silence. The closer they drew to their destination, the more often they had to duck into a room or hide to avoid being seen by passersby.

"Think the others are alright?" Hendricks asked. They stopped at a cross-hall, each taking a side to make sure no one was traveling it.

"Not a clue," his companion murmured. He jerked his head in the direction of his side of the intersecting corridor and stealthily they made their way down it towards the briefing room. The two young officers were so intent on getting to their destination, they almost didn't turn to glance behind them before it was too late.

"Donovan!" Hendricks cried out in warning as Captain Simmons, garbed as goa'uld strike force, fired a zat upon them.

"Die, scum!" she said with a manic gleam in her eye. She was accompanied by three SGC-clad personnel, who also fired upon the recruits. Donovan managed to duck into a room unscathed whereas Hendricks fired off two shots with his intar before he was hit with a blast from the zat.

One of the attacking forces crumpled to the ground, hit by Hendricks' intar. Donovan fired back at the remaining three, almost catching a zat blast to the face once. Finally, Simmons and the other two fell. Donovan shot them all a second time just to be sure.

"Hendricks?" he said, kneeling next to where his teammate slumped against the wall. He let out a sigh of relief when he saw that the man was still alive. "You okay?"

"Peachy," Hendricks groaned, accepting Donovan's help to rise back to his feet. "I've been hit by those damned zats and intars so much, I think I'm building up an immunity. Still can't decide which one's worse." He rubbed at the back of his neck.

"My vote is on the zats," Donovan admitted. "You able to walk by yourself?"

The other man nodded. "Yeah, let's get out of here before more show up."

* * *

 

"Major Carter," General Hammond smiled up at Sam. "Come on in."

"General," she acknowledged him, then, the guest, "Sir. How's the simulation going?"

"You made it just in time, Major," Hammond told her. "Looks like it's winding to a close." A bright flash on one of the monitors indicated that a shock grenade had been set off in the briefing room.

"Donovan and Hendricks seem to work well together," the man named Tom observed.

"I find that they're actually quite similar," Major Briggs contributed, returning from somewhere. "Major Carter."

"Major Briggs," Sam returned. "It's good to see you."

"The same," Briggs nodded cordially.

"I think it's time for us to head down there," Hammond declared.

* * *

 

Donovan and Hendricks reached the control room just as Willis and Brant took out the personnel keeping watch over the device.

"Alright, so we're all here," Donovan said. "Anything from Angel or Elder?"

"Nothing, yet," Brant replied, studying the device. He tried several switches on its front, but nothing worked.

"Can you just turn off the PA system?" Hendricks suggested.

Brant shook his head. "Already tried. They did something to it."

"We don't have time for this," Donovan declared as he took some C4 from his tac-vest and set a timer. "I'm setting it for two minutes. That way we can make sure we're away from this thing – we have no idea how it will respond to explosives." The others nodded and he activated the countdown. They hurried up the staircase back to the briefing room.

"How long you think they'll be out?" Hendricks asked, indicating the personnel who he and Donovan had taken out with the shock grenade. They looked at Brant expectantly.

"Sorry," he answered. "Don't know."

"You'd think the gate room would be more alive," Donovan said, gazing down through the briefing room window.

"Yeah," Hendricks agreed idly, glancing through the glass in time to see Angel and Elder cross the large room to head for the stairs leading up to the control room on the other side.

"Angel, Elder," Donovan spoke over the radio. "Stop right there!" Neither seemed to have heard him.

"Their radios must be off," Hendricks said, turning and running for the stairs.

"Hendricks!" his teammate shouted after him. "There's only 30 seconds – if there's anything combustible in that thing... Hendricks!"

"... 17, 16, 15," Hendricks counted as he rushed down the stairs. He reached the control room floor and kept going, taking the stairs two at a time. "5, 4, 3 ..." Nearing the bottom of the stairs, he threw himself at Angel and Elder, tackling them to the floor as the countdown ran out.

"Hendricks!" Elder sputtered in surprise. "What the..."

"What the hell?" Hendricks muttered, breathing heavily. Climbing to their feet, the three trainees cautiously ascended the stairs.

"BOOM!" one of their instructors declared, holding up the C4 modeling clay. The three who had been up in the briefing had come down to see what had happened. Their four instructors, along with General Hammond and several of the personnel involved in the simulation stood there beside the device.

"It was another training scenario?" Elder exclaimed. "I had no clue!"

"Thought it might be," Brant smirked. The six recruits looked at each other with varying amounts of surprise and bewilderment.

"That's right," General Hammond told them, "you can think of today as your final exam. I'm proud to announce that all of you passed." Angel exchanged a high five with Elder.

"I passed," Hendricks murmured, savoring the words. "I passed."

"And I have a confession for you lieutenant," Major Briggs said. Hendricks looked up at her expectantly. "You weren't imagining it. All of the instructors worked to make things harder for you."

"Why?" he demanded. And he wasn't the only one who asked. His fellow recruits exchanged puzzled looks.

"So, he's not just a klutz?" Angel whispered.

"It's because of me," the guest spoke up.

"Tom.. I mean, Colonel Richards?" Hendricks exclaimed.

The older man smiled. "It's 'General', now, lieutenant. It's been awhile. Last time I saw you, you were still at the academy."

"You're the one who recommended me for this," the younger man realized.

"That's right," Richards said, "but I've also known you since you were a boy. You only like to do what you like to do. I wanted to be sure that you really wanted to be part of the Stargate Program – this isn't the kind of job you can do half-assed."

"He suggested that we made things a little more difficult for you," Hammond concluded, "and I agreed to it."

Hendricks bowed his head, rubbing at the back of his neck. Finally, he looked up again, his eyes glistening with tears. "If that's all I had to endure to prove my sincerity, then it was worth it," he declared. "I want to be here."

"Well done, son," Hammond told him, with a warm smile. "Well done to all of you. I have a place for each of you. Now, go home and get some rest. I want you all to report first thing Monday morning for your assignments."

"Yes, sir!" the recruits answered in unison, saluting more or less simultaneously. Teal'c smiled slightly as he watched them go.

"Looks like you've taught them well," Sam remarked, coming up beside him. He turned to face her.

"In some ways, it is they who have taught me," he responded.

"Funny how that works, huh?" she smiled, understanding what he meant.

The Jaffa inclined his head in agreement. "Indeed," he murmured.

* * *

 

Sam knocked on the door.

"Come!" Hammond called from inside.

"You wanted to see me, sir?" the major said as she entered.

"Ah, yes, Major. Come in and have a seat."

Sam closed the door and sat down in the chair in front of the general's desk. "Sir, if I might say something," she spoke up before Hammond could begin.

"Of course," he said. "Go right ahead."

"I realize Major Vance may have recommended me to take over his position, but with all due respect, sir – I don't want to do that," she told him earnestly. "I know things are a bit different after Colonel O'Neill lost his sight, but SG-1 is still a team-"

"Which is why, for now," Hammond cut in before she continued, "I am appointing you as the leader of SG-1."

"But, sir... I beg your pardon?"

"You, Dr. Jackson, and Teal'c have been together with Colonel O'Neill as a team for several years now. There's no good reason why you can't remain together," he said. "That is, if you're willing to accept the position."

"Of course! I mean, sir, I would love to," Sam stammered. "Naturally, if Colonel O'Neill is ever able to come back..."

"If Colonel O'Neill is ever able to come back, we'll discuss it then," Hammond said gently. "For now, I'd like for you and the rest of SG-1 to meet tomorrow for your next mission briefing. Do you think you can get Dr. Jackson and Teal'c here by 1300?"

"Yes, sir," the major answered.

"Good," the general smiled. "You're dismissed."

"Thank you, sir." She rose and left the room. They were going to be together again. It still hurt to think that Colonel O'Neill wouldn't be joining them, but having the three of them together was a start. Maybe another miracle could still happen. For now, Sam was going to tell her teammates the good news.


	21. Chapter 21

A couple weeks had passed. SG-1 sans Jack had gone on their first mission as a team since that fateful day when the sky had fallen upon them. In fact, it had seemed as though it had continued to fall all along.

"So, Colonel," Dr. Albright said, approaching his patient. "How have you been faring? I hear Alex left to be with her grandfather."

"Yeah," Jack replied, shifting in his seat on the exam table. "Haven't heard from her in awhile."

"I don't imagine she'll go too long without checking in on you," the young physician told him. "It's not in her nature."

"No, it's not," the colonel agreed with a small smile.

"Have you been experiencing any pain or irritation in your eyes?"

"No."

"Alright, how about -"

"I've been seeing things."

"Come again, sir?" Albright asked.

"Shadows," Jack continued, "outlines of things when they move in front of a light source. Thought I might have caught a glimpse of Alex, but I'm not sure."

The doctor sat down on his stool, staring at the older man in surprise. "And you didn't think to pick up the phone and call me?"

"I thought I might have been imagining it. Now, I'm pretty sure I'm not."

"Sir, I was honestly starting to believe that your condition was irreversible, but if you really are able to sense movement..." Albright was becoming excited.

"I can tell that you're doing that thing where you talk with your hands," Jack informed him.

The younger man looked at his own hand poised mid-air and let out a self-conscious laugh, lowering it to his lap. "There's one more treatment I'd like you try."

"Sure. Why not?" the colonel sighed. "What is it?"

"It's new, though it has been tested with positive results, limited side-effects. Its development was commissioned by Kens-Corp."

"Kens-Corp?"

"Bruce Kensington had it started shortly after Alex's accident," Albright explained. "Due to the nature of her injury, the treatment wouldn't have proven very effective, but with you... well, there's reason to believe the chance of success could be fairly high."

"I'll try it," Jack said.

"But, sir, I haven't finished telling you about it, yet."

"Albright, what have I got to lose? Besides – I already got a good feeling about this one."

The doctor smiled. "Yeah," he agreed. "I think I can see why."

* * *

 

SG-1 sat in the briefing room, waiting for their post mission briefing to start. Teal'c gazed down into the gate room as SG-12 returned from their mission, its two newest members bickering all the way down the ramp. Colonel Adams cuffed them both upside the head. She must have at least hurt their pride, because both Donovan and Hendricks shut up and rubbed at the spot where she'd smacked them.

Elder had been assigned to SG-8 under the command of the newly promoted Major Simmons, whereas Angel and Willis had become a part of SG-14. Brant, the newest member of SG-3, was currently off-duty after suffering an injury on his first mission.

"So, I was thinking maybe we should go see Jack, tonight," Daniel spoke up.

"That sounds like a great idea," Sam agreed.

"Indeed," Teal'c nodded, turning away from the window as General Hammond joined them.

"I see the three of you returned in one piece," he said, taking his seat.

"Yes, sir," the major told him. "We almost had to marry Daniel off again, though."

Daniel put a hand to his face. "Could we not mention that, please?" he begged.

General Hammond chuckled. "This sounds like it's going to be an interesting briefing."

* * *

 

_Several months later..._

"Jack, you had to be there – practically everything was written on those scrolls. It was like a library of all their history and culture," Daniel was saying.

"For a while, I was afraid we'd never get him to leave the planet," Sam teased.

"It did appear to be an impressive amount of information," Teal'c spoke up in the anthropologist's defense.

"Thanks, Teal'c," Daniel told him.

Jack just shook his head, smiling in amusement while idly pondering whether he really wanted to get up to replace his beer or not. "Carter," he spoke up as the major passed to get more of the standard team night fare, "is your hair shorter?" The colonel squinted to try to make her come into better focus, but it didn't help much.

"You can tell?" she asked.

"Yeah, it looks like you've whacked half of it off!"

"That's about right," Daniel contributed with a grin. Sam gave them both admonishing looks.

"Colonel Jack?" a voice called. Jack was on his feet in an instant, his beer dilemma forgotten. A figure came around the corner of the house and up the patio stairs. "I saw all the cars and thought you might be back here," Alex said, smiling. Her image was distorted and blurry, but to Jack she looked beautiful anyway.

"Alex!" he said, stepping towards her.

"Sorry I haven't been in contact," the girl told him. "I called a few times, but your answering machine..." Jack pulled her into a hug, thankful that she was alright. Her eyes widened in surprise, then she laughed, returning the embrace. "I missed you, too, Colonel Jack."

"All that stuff you tried so hard to teach me – I'm probably not going to need any of it," he informed her as he stepped back.

"I heard! That's wonderful," Alex said. "So, can you see me?"

"More or less – I can almost guarantee you don't look half as bad." He reached out and ruffled her hair.

"Major Sam, Murray, Dr. Jackson," the young woman addressed the rest of SG-1, "it's good to see you again."

"Same to you," the major told her. "You look well."

"Very well," Alex confirmed. "I like the hair cut."

"Thank you!" Sam shot her teammates a triumphant look.

"Rumor has it, you've decided to succeed your grandfather as the head of Kens-Corp," Daniel said, coming up to stand beside Jack.

"I have to survive several years of college, first, but that is the idea."

"That's great. I'm sure you'll do well."

"I didn't get a chance to thank you," Alex told the scientist. "If you hadn't been asking me why I didn't go home, I probably wouldn't have been watching the press conference that morning, then who knows how long it would have been before I found out about my grandfather's heart-attack. I'm not sure if we would've made as easily if I didn't show up when I did. So, thank you."

"I didn't really do anything, but you're welcome," Daniel replied.

"Anyhow, I have to go – I came here with my grandfather for a business conference, so I can't be late. I think he's just coming up with excuses to have me at his side. Oh – almost forgot!" She reached into her pocket and pulled out a keyring, extending it towards Jack. "Your house key."

Jack pushed her hand away. "Keep it," he said. "You might need a place to crash sometime."

A big smile overtook her features and Alex threw her arms around his neck. "Thanks, Colonel Jack!" She started towards the steps, then paused, turning towards Daniel. "One more thing," she said, stepping closer. She rose up on her toes and planted a chaste kiss on his cheek.

"W-what was that for?" Daniel asked in surprise.

"For being my first crush," Alex told him, face slightly flushed. "Thanks, Daniel." With a wave, she left.

Jack turned to gaze at his friend. "Daniel?" he said, his tone teasing.

"I – I don't know," the younger man stammered, putting a hand to his cheek, "I mean, I had no idea..."

His teammates laughed, and after moment, he joined in. They were alright. Everyone – SG-1, the recruits, Alex... they were all alright. They had all survived the storm.

Finally, the sky had stopped falling.


	22. Epilogue

_Some time later..._

Jack stretched, stifling a yawn in an attempt to hide his drowsiness. He had stayed up the night before watching old action movies, of all things.

"Sir, did you remember your glasses?" Sam asked, strapping her GDO to her wrist.

The man's eyebrows drew together and he frowned. "I'm wearing _contacts_ , Carter," he reminded her.

"Last time, you managed to lose one," she returned.

_Touché._ "They're in my bag," he sighed in defeat. "Danny – you get enough sleep?" Daniel somehow appeared as though he had recently crawled out of bed, covering a yawn of his own.

"I stayed up late reading," the archaeologist confessed, then returned, "What about you?"

"Alex is staying over at my place. We watched movies."

"Did she fight with her grandfather, again?" Sam asked, concerned.

"Nah," Jack answered, "he went on vacation in Florida. She says it's too humid down there for her. Personally, I think it has more to do with her boyfriend than anything else."

"She has a boyfriend?"

"Yeah. Seems like a nice kid," the colonel shrugged. "I think his name's Brenden or something. He got a full ride to study engineering at one of the local colleges." His teammates exchanged a look, well aware of the fact that Jack probably knew where Brenden lived and what kind of car he drove.

"I am certain that O'Neill has already informed this Brenden of how he should behave," Teal'c surmised. Sam and Daniel nodded in agreement as Jack pretended to have no clue what they were talking about.

"Alright, SG-1," General Hammond addressed them from the control room after the wormhole was established. "You have a go. Come back in one piece, people."

"Yes, sir," Jack told him, then turned, thrusting a finger at the gate. "To Oz!" The team proceeded up the ramp. Stepping through the event horizon, they continued to what lay beyond.


End file.
